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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24645694">The One</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/zforzarry/pseuds/zforzarry'>zforzarry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Romance, Slow Build</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:35:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>60,392</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24645694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/zforzarry/pseuds/zforzarry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn and Harry's love story told through episodes; from their first kiss, to their tumultuous fights during the engagement, to their first "I love you", to their reunion after 2015.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zayn Malik/Harry Styles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>159</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The one with the first time (mature)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>These stories are meant to be read in order!</p><p>These stories are total works of fiction based on real events and interactions between Zarry, but it is totally my fabricated interpretation of things, and don't take any of it too seriously! </p><p>I'm telling the stories through different perspectives (mostly Zayn and Harry's) so look for the bolded name at the top of the sections to tell you whose perspective I'm writing from.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>2011 </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Zayn</strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Zayn.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Zayn. </em>
</p>
<p>"Zayn." </p>
<p>Zayn cracked an eye open, lifting his now-red cheek off of the van window. Liam was leaning over the back of his seat, looking at him with a goofy smile. He leaned away instinctively, uninterested in having Liam in his face. "We're at the hotel," Liam said. </p>
<p>"Thanks," Zayn grunted, and wiped at his mouth, hoping that he hadn't been drooling. He glanced across the backseat where Harry was similarly slumped against the window, mouth hanging open. Liam reached over his seat to swat at Harry, messing with his hair, but he didn't stir. Zayn smiled and lifted his foot, kicking Harry in the thigh. "Rise and shine, Curly Sue. We're here." </p>
<p>Harry looked up with as menacing of a glare as he could muster, which wasn't really menacing at all. His expression softened as his eyes landed on Zayn's grin and he sighed with a smile, stretching out dramatically. He returned Zayn's kick, getting him sharply in the shin. "Oh, you dick," Zayn muttered and Harry snorted a laugh. </p>
<p>"You guys are crashing with Louis and Niall tonight," Liam said. "I'm going to be with Paul and Ben." </p>
<p>Zayn barely listened to him, just happy to be out of a van and stretching his legs. He and Harry swatted Paul's guys away from their bags after thanking them for offering to help. None of them had been able to get comfortable with having people work for them. They chatted shit back and forth about the new setlist and complained about their call time in the morning. Once they were in the room with the other guys, Paul all but locked them in, chastising them not to get into any trouble. </p>
<p>Zayn let his bag slump off of his shoulder, rubbing at his eyes. Ever since they had started working nonstop, this was the very moment he craved throughout the day. The moment that he could just crash and dream that in some version of this life he absolutely loved his job and was happy all of the time. </p>
<p>He kept one eye on Harry, who tossed his stuff onto one of the beds. Zayn had every intention of grabbing the spot next to him, until Niall sat down on the other side. Harry paused slightly as he did so, and slid a glance over in Zayn's direction. </p>
<p>Zayn cleared his throat. "Niall, switch with me," he said, walking over to the other side of the bed. </p>
<p>Niall looked up at him in confusion. "Why?" </p>
<p>"I want to sleep next to the window so I can smoke later," he lied and Niall rolled his eyes. Zayn kicked him lightly in the shin, not caring whether he believed him or not. "Come on, then." </p>
<p>"I hate sleeping next to Louis," Niall muttered, getting up to move. </p>
<p>"Hey!" Louis scoffed from the corner of the room. "What the hell?" </p>
<p>"Sorry, but you kick all damn night," Niall argued back. </p>
<p>Zayn pulled his attention away from their bickering to Harry, who glanced away from him as soon as their eyes met with a small smile on his face. Zayn's heart thudded a little harder and he itched to get under the covers. </p>
<p>Zayn didn't know what he was doing. Hell, Harry probably didn't know what he was doing either. They had an unspoken agreement to sleep in the same bed together whenever they could. Nothing had happened... yet. Zayn liked to pretend that he hadn't let his mind wander when he got into bed with Harry and that he didn't feel the sparks flying in the few inches of space between them. The last few nights, Harry's leg had found its way over to Zayn's side of the bed, pushing up against his or tangling their ankles together. Zayn kept reminding himself that it didn't mean anything, really, because it was just a small, meaningless touch, but... he hadn't pulled away. </p>
<p>There was a chance he was making all of it up in his head. Maybe Harry really was asleep every time they accidentally touched under the covers. Maybe Harry only wanted to crash in the same bed with him because he was the quietest sleeper. But every time Zayn looked at Harry, he swore he could always see a knowing smile on Harry's face, like he was in on it too. </p>
<p>Harry was confusing. Mostly because he was such an outgoing guy, and Zayn didn't expect to get along with him that well. Most of his friends from home were far more likely to smoke and play video games through the night than go to a huge, crowded party, unlike Harry, and he'd liked it that way. But Harry had been one of the first people to talk to him on the X-Factor and he was really nice. It hadn't taken Zayn long to realize how stupidly charming and kind Harry was. At first, he'd clocked it as Harry being a suck-up to everyone in the house and it'd irritated him. But the more time he spent with Harry, the more he realized that it was just how Harry was. Most of the time, it seemed like second nature. The couple of times they'd fought or argued had left Zayn feeling incredibly guilty and upset, but Harry was always the first to break the ice, apologizing and in turn, forgiving Zayn in a heartbeat. Zayn hated to admit it, but he wished he could be more like that sometimes. </p>
<p>Despite all of that, he and Harry had gotten to be very good friends. They liked a lot of the same stuff, and Harry was the most open out of all the boys to listening to Zayn's opinions on music and art. Zayn wished he could tell Harry how much he appreciated that, because he found it hard to speak his mind sometimes, but Harry never made it feel difficult. They were both interested in clothes, even though they had drastically different styles, and Zayn trust Harry's opinion more than most. He'd learned where Harry had gotten his incredible manners after meeting his mum, and he was happy that Harry had gotten along well with his parents and sisters. He admired the way Harry was with girls from afar. Only because he was envious; definitely not because he wanted to know what it would be like to be the object of Harry's undivided attention. </p>
<p>Zayn sat beside Harry on the bed, poking him in the side to get his attention. Harry lifted his gaze up from his phone in amusement, flashing his dimples. "Scoot over," Zayn muttered and Harry shifted less than an inch to the left, looking smug. Zayn rolled his eyes and sat next to him, scrolling through his phone for a while. He didn't read any of the tweets he scrolled past, too preoccupied with the feeling of Harry's leg pressed against his. </p>
<p>He watched Harry in anticipation as they all unpacked. Somehow, he looked attractive even doing something that mundane, pushing his hand occasionally through the curls that Zayn always itched to touch. Zayn was the first to get into bed and pull the covers over him, and his heart started beating faster when Harry climbed in beside him. He willed it to slow down, irrationally worried that Harry would be able to feel it racing through the mattress. </p>
<p>"Everybody good? Lights off?" Louis asked and they all grunted their agreement. He flicked the lights off and Zayn waited. </p>
<p>It was a long while before he felt Harry turn over, brushing their shoulders together. Everyone else was asleep; they could hear Niall snoring clear as day. Zayn stayed frozen for a moment before shifting, their arms lining up together. They both stared up at the ceiling for a moment, neither of them moving a muscle. Zayn's breath hitched when he felt Harry's finger stroke over the back of his hand gently. </p>
<p>He couldn't say who moved in first, but suddenly his fingers were trailing the palm of Harry's hand before their fingers locked together, and he couldn't breathe. He could feel deep warmth on his face and he was glad the lights were off so Harry couldn't see how badly he was blushing. </p>
<p>Then in a flash, he felt fingers on his chin, tilting his face in Harry's direction and lips on his, and he immediately felt like he was falling; falling into Harry, crashing into him and getting completely consumed, because he didn't know it would feel like this, and oh, <em>fuck- </em></p>
<p>Harry pulled back and Zayn almost moaned in disappointment, chasing after Harry's lips. Harry let out a little groan, sliding his hand over Zayn's waist and pulling him in. Harry's lips were so soft and wet and perfect; Zayn thought for sure he was dreaming for a second. Zayn kissed him over and over again, both of them swallowing gasps and moans. All Zayn wanted was more; to touch Harry everywhere, for Harry to touch him, to make him feel good, just <em>more more more- </em></p>
<p>They both finally drew back when it started to get too heated and Niall let out a loud snore, which reminded them both where they were. Zayn stared into the darkness, still able to feel Harry's heavy breath on his lips. Harry pressed another soft kiss to his lips. "Zayn," he breathed in the quietest voice. "Bathroom?" </p>
<p>Zayn grinned, nodding. "Yeah, let's go," he whispered back. </p>
<p>"Slow," Harry reminded him quietly, and they both crept out of bed. Harry found Zayn's hand in the darkness and they walked quietly into the bathroom. Zayn closed the door behind them as gently as he could. It was way darker in there than it was in the room, because there were no windows. Zayn could barely make out Harry's shape in front of him. </p>
<p>"Lights on or off?" he asked breathlessly, blindly reaching for the switch. He hit it with the back of his hand and immediately the fan roared on, startling both of them. </p>
<p>"Shit, fuck- off," Harry whispered with a laugh, reaching frantically over Zayn's shoulder to turn it off. </p>
<p>"Fuckkk, my bad," Zayn smirked and Harry silenced him, listening for any movement from the other boys. </p>
<p>"You think they heard anything?" Harry chuckled and turned as Zayn took his face in his hands. </p>
<p>"Shhh," Zayn murmured and kissed him. Harry settled his hands onto Zayn's hips, pushing him until he was back against the sink. Harry was all over him, kissing him heatedly, biting Zayn's bottom lip. Not wanting to be outdone, Zayn leaned over to kiss Harry's neck, making him moan. It was an unbelievable turn on to hear Harry make noises like that and he slid his hands over every part of Harry's body that he could, squeezing his arms, waist, hips, ass...</p>
<p>He lost his breath as Harry lifted him up to sit him on the counter, pushing his legs apart so he could stand between them. He could feel how hard Harry was against his thigh, and he was suddenly unable to think about anything other than Harry's hands sliding over his legs. Zayn encouraged him with a kiss under his ear, pushing his hands into Harry's hair. </p>
<p>"Fuck, Zayn," Harry groaned quietly, stopping his hands hesitantly. His fingers pressed deeply into Zayn's thighs. "Can I touch you?" </p>
<p>The question alone knocked the wind out of Zayn and he groaned, sliding closer. Zayn had spent a lot of time thinking about touching Harry and how he would move, the noises he would make. But he never let himself hope before that Harry would want to touch <em>him. Fuck. </em>"Yes, please." </p>
<p>Harry kissed him, slipping his hand into Zayn's boxers. Zayn gasped against Harry's mouth, tightening his grip around the back of Harry's neck. He bit back moans that eventually came spilling out, so much so that Harry used his other hand to cover Zayn's mouth. Harry kissed his throat and Zayn leaned his head back, giving him more room. </p>
<p>He moved Harry's hand away from his mouth. "Haz," he breathed. "I want to touch you, too." </p>
<p>Harry moaned his answer, nodding. Zayn reached down, pushing Harry's boxers away. He tried to match his rhythm to Harry's, kissing between groans. "Feels so good," Zayn panted and dug his nails into Harry's neck as he felt himself building to release. "Fuck," he muttered, shuddering and resting his head against Harry's shoulder. Harry wasn't far behind him, mouthing at Zayn's neck while he came. </p>
<p>They both leaned against each other, trying to catch their breath. Harry chuckled quietly and Zayn joined in, laughing over how ridiculous it all was. "Jesus Christ," he whispered with a grin and Harry laughed harder, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Shhh, babe," Zayn snickered and Harry sighed, leaning back from him. </p>
<p>They washed their hands off as quietly as they could. Zayn felt giddy; irrationally happy. If he was being honest with himself, he'd wanted to do this with Harry for so long. By some miracle, Harry wanted him too, and that made Zayn feel like he was high. He didn't want the moment to be over. </p>
<p>Just before Harry turned towards the door, Zayn kissed him, relieved when Harry wrapped his arms around him. Zayn rested his forehead against Harry's for a second, breathing him in. "You are fucking unreal, Harry," he whispered and Harry's breath hitched. </p>
<p>They tiptoed back to their bed, trying to climb in surreptitiously. Zayn turned towards Harry, who was already facing him. They could see each other a little better now, and Zayn stared into Harry's eyes for a long moment, reliving everything that had just happened. Harry pressed another soft kiss to his lips, almost like a reassurance, before turning back over. </p>
<p>Zayn turned back over too, completely shocked and exhilarated. He had always wondered what it would be like to be with Harry, or how it would be when they finally kissed, because for some reason that had always seemed inevitable. That, as quick and quiet as it had been, had exceeded every single expectation, and his head was reeling. Especially when Harry slipped his hand back into Zayn's, locking their fingers together under the safety of the covers. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <strong>Harry </strong>
</p>
<p>It was risky, he knew. </p>
<p><em>He could wake up at any moment. </em>Harry let his eyes trace over Zayn's face one more time before turning away, looking up at the ceiling. It was risky to be staring at Zayn in his sleep, because he could wake up at any moment and maybe he'd find it weird that Harry was looking at him. Harry snuck another look anyway. Nothing about this <em>wasn't </em>risky. But what Zayn had made him feel last night was... <em>totally worth it. </em></p>
<p>Harry didn't know if he wanted Zayn to wake up, so he could see his lazy, golden eyes and hear him speak in that really, really quiet voice of his or if he wanted Zayn to stay asleep forever, looking soft and happy and his lips a little red. He was no stranger to the feelings. But it was new that they were so intensely locked in on a guy. Especially one like Zayn. </p>
<p>Not that Zayn wasn't gorgeous. He was, maybe, the <em>most </em>gorgeous person that Harry had ever seen in real life. But he was so quiet, and Harry's eyes rarely went towards the quiet ones, girls or boys, because he was quite the opposite. He liked to be the center of attention, and he hadn't really expected Zayn to like him that much. <em>But he does. </em>That made Harry proud, and all he knew was what happened last night had to happen again. <em>And again and again and again. </em></p>
<p>When Niall complained in an interview that day that Harry and Zayn always had to sleep in the same bed or they would throw a strop, Harry tried not to grin and glanced at Zayn, who eyed him with the slyest of smiles. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <em>Two days later </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Zayn </strong>
</p>
<p>Zayn was beyond frustrated. </p>
<p>It had been over 48 hours since Harry had kissed him. He'd be embarrassed about the fact that he was keeping track of the hours if he had the capability to feel anything other than irritation that they hadn't been able to do it again. It had been Harry's turn to crash with Paul the night after and last night, Louis had kept them up playing football online. The TV had been on too bright for Harry and him to have any privacy. </p>
<p>He'd gone outside during rehearsals to smoke a cigarette, lying to Louis that he only had one so that he could be alone. He was relishing in having a moment by himself just as much as he was the nicotine. He wanted to curse at God as he heard the door open, but immediately let go of that feeling as Harry came out. </p>
<p>Zayn couldn't help but smile at him. It was amazing, he'd found, how quickly Harry's mere presence was able to lift him out of bad moods. "No," he feigned surprise. "Golden boy Harry Styles coming outside for a cigarette break? I'll call the papers." </p>
<p>Harry rolled his eyes with a smirk, glancing over his shoulder. "Anyone else out here with you?" </p>
<p>Zayn shook his head. "Nah, just me." </p>
<p>He was gobsmacked when Harry strode over to him and plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, holding it away from him. He didn't have time to be mad because Harry slid the other hand around his back, pulling him into a hot, open-mouthed kiss. Zayn sighed involuntarily, slipping his hand around the back of Harry's neck. </p>
<p>When Harry pulled back, he pressed his lips against Zayn's ear. "Maybe we need to get a hotel room to ourselves soon. I want to be able to see you next time," he whispered in a deep voice and chills went through Zayn's entire body, making the hair on his arms stand up. </p>
<p>Harry took a tiny step back and Zayn eyed him. <em>He's serious. </em>He nodded, hooking a finger into one of Harry's belt loops and pulling him in. "Don't think I won't," he said slowly, making sure Harry knew he was serious too. </p>
<p>Harry eyed his lips mischievously, moving in closer. "Might as well, right?" he murmured and Zayn pulled him in to kiss him one more time. Harry kissed him back a little breathlessly, biting his lip when they broke apart. </p>
<p>Zayn snatched his cigarette back, grinning. "Give me that, dickhead," he muttered and Harry smiled wide, practically skipping back into the green room. </p>
<p>Zayn took a long drag of cigarette, trying to settle his heart that was basically rattling in his chest. <em>This is very, very bad, </em>he thought to himself with a grin. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The one with all the jealousy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>late 2011</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Zayn </strong>
</p>
<p>"Get off, then!" </p>
<p>Zayn stumbled back as Liam threw Niall off of his shoulders, pushing him towards the other end of the stage where Zayn was standing. He didn't know why or how, exactly, Niall had gotten onto Liam's shoulders in the first place, but if he tried to keep up with everything that went on during their shows, he'd lose his mind. He didn't know how their fans seemed to catch everything. </p>
<p>He looked for Harry, who was his anchor when things on stage started to get overwhelming. Harry always brought him back down to Earth, reminding him with just a smile that they would be perfectly fine. He turned to the crowd instead when Harry was nowhere to be found, trying to lock on to a few fans instead. He found that if he could focus on a few of them that he could see clearly, it was much easier to wrap his brain around performing. It was too overwhelming to try and look out at all of them. </p>
<p>Zayn smirked as his eyes landed on one fan, who was screaming Harry's name and bouncing up and down with a sign. He squinted at it, hoping he'd be able to find it later when Harry came back on stage so that he could show him. That is, until he read it. </p>
<p>
  <em>Harry stays UP ALL NIGHT with Louis on top! </em>
</p>
<p>Zayn clenched his jaw, rolling his eyes and looking away from the sign. To make matters worse, his eyes landed on Harry, who had returned to the stage after changing his shirt only to laugh and whisper to Louis, sitting beside him on the couch. The girl with the sign started screaming even louder. </p>
<p>Zayn knew that Harry didn't care for Louis in that way. He <em>knew. </em>But it was beyond frustrating to watch them while knowing that thousands of girls all over the world were latching on, eyeing their every movement. Zayn constantly battled between wanting to keep his stolen moments with Harry a secret and wanting everyone to <em>back the hell off because Harry was his. </em></p>
<p>What pissed him off was the way Harry played into it. He and Louis were really close, and they were always joking about how they were practically married, but that was all it was, a joke. It was like neither of them noticed that it was starting not to be a joke anymore. The girls wanted them to be together so badly and it sent Zayn through a spiral every time Harry innocently touched Louis on camera because he knew everyone would cry "Larry Stylinson!" </p>
<p>Harry didn't understand for a lot of reasons. Zayn tried not to let himself feel jealous about the girls, and he encouraged Harry to do the same. After all, they <em>had </em>to keep seeing girls. There was no going around that. But if there was one thing Harry could promise him, it would be not to look at other guys. It drove Zayn up the fucking wall whenever Harry's eyes lingered on boys they met at parties. It absolutely fucked with him to imagine Harry being with another guy the same they were together. </p>
<p>Zayn glanced away, feeling uncomfortable. He had plenty of images and memories stored away in his head of Harry when they were hooking up; his body, his sounds, all of it. And after reading that sign, he suddenly felt sick to his stomach imagining that they were for Louis and not for him. </p>
<p>Harry bounded over to him after a while, trying to catch his attention. He put his arm over Zayn's shoulders, pulling him close to whisper something in his ear. Zayn barely heard him, blood boiling with jealousy and he dismissed Harry with a nod, retreating to talk to Liam. He didn't care much if Harry felt put out, and if Harry did feel that way, he didn't show it. Every time Harry spoke to Louis after that, Zayn watched them like a hawk. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <strong>Harry </strong>
</p>
<p>Harry felt slightly guilty later when they all got to their hotel. Zayn hadn't slipped his spare hotel key into Harry's hand like they'd been doing most nights for the past month on tour. He didn't know exactly what he'd done to make Zayn upset, but he had a hunch. </p>
<p>Zayn was never jealous, really. Harry had his moments of anger whenever they were with a girl and Zayn was paying more attention to her than him. He never got the vibe that Zayn had those feelings too. The only time Zayn got noticeably upset was when a boy caught Harry's eye. Whenever they met up with girls, or were trying to pick a girl to fool around with, they'd look around together and point out the ones they liked and what things about her drew them in. Maybe it wasn't very nice to them, but they had to be careful with the girls they picked to share, so they were a little more choosy than they would normally be. The few times Harry had expressed any kind of the same attraction to a guy in front of Zayn, Zayn would set his jaw and ignore Harry for the rest of the night. Harry wasn't sure he agree that it was different in theory, but clearly that was how Zayn saw it. </p>
<p>Lately, Zayn's irritability had turned towards Louis, and Harry didn't know exactly how to handle it. Zayn didn't want to talk; that much had been made abundantly clear over the past few months that they had been fooling around. Harry thought that Zayn knew it was all just a joke, but he would get all cagey and quiet whenever the subject was brought up and Harry wasn't sure why. The fans knew it was a joke, too, but there was no connection there. He'd set the lad up with a girl for God's sake, but maybe that still wasn't enough. </p>
<p>He knocked on Zayn's door late at night, who cracked it open with a blunt in hand. "Can I come in?" he asked. </p>
<p>Zayn shrugged, but opened the door wider, letting Harry pass through. He sat back in his bed without saying anything, looking at his phone even though there was a movie on. Harry walked in and sat next to him, unsure of himself. He fidgeted before trying to do the only thing they ever really did, and stroked his fingers over Zayn's arm, trying to catch his hand to start something. </p>
<p>Zayn swatted Harry's hand off of him irritably and Harry frowned. "Are you mad at me?" he sighed. Zayn rolled his eyes and shook his head, eyes locked on his screen. Harry eyed him for a second. "Okay. What's wrong, then?" </p>
<p>"Nothing," Zayn lied. </p>
<p>Harry tilted his head and leaned in slightly, trying to catch Zayn's eyes. "Why won't you look at me?" </p>
<p>Zayn set his phone down and met his eyes. "Leave it, Haz. I'm fine, and I'm tired. I just don't want to mess around." </p>
<p>Harry nodded after a beat. "Okay." Zayn picked up his phone again, clearly set on ignoring him, but Harry didn't feel quite right with just leaving when he was so obviously upset. He cleared his throat. "What movie is this?" </p>
<p>Zayn looked up. "Uh... I think it's a Marvel one. Avengers, or something." </p>
<p>"Can I watch it with you? I'm bored," Harry said and pouted slightly as Zayn glanced over at him. </p>
<p>A hint of a smile played at Zayn's lips and he nodded. Somewhat satisfied, Harry settled in against the pillows, and tried to find the courage to talk to Zayn for real about what they were doing. The courage never came. </p>
<p>Zayn eventually broke, leaving his phone to the side and pulling Harry close, kissing him and whispering about how he'd been dying to do this all day. A warning bell went off somewhere in the back of Harry's mind, that maybe they needed to talk about what was going on. But as Zayn slid on top of him, the noise in Harry's head was drowned out and all he could think or feel was <em>Zayn </em>and everything would be fine. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <em>One night later </em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Zayn </strong>
</p>
<p>Zayn frowned as he heard a loud thump on his door, sitting up to look at it in confusion. There was another thump against it, only this time it kind of sounded like a knock. He swung his legs over the bed and walked over, cracking it open. </p>
<p>A very, <em>very, </em>drunk Harry stood in front of it, so drunk that he was tripping over his feet just standing there, balancing only with his hand on the door. "Hey," he slurred, a sappy smile slipping over his face. Zayn rolled his eyes. "Can I come in?" </p>
<p>Zayn squinted at him, thinking for a second. He'd been angry with Harry all day, even though it wasn't really Harry's fault. They'd been sat in an interview earlier in the day when they'd been asked about which of the boys were single. Niall, who, bless his heart, was probably just trying to make a joke, had pissed him off by teasing that Louis and Harry were in a relationship. It was so harmless, but then again it wasn't. He wasn't proud of it, but he'd stewed in his anger for the rest of the day, swatting off Harry's touches on the back of his hand or his shoulders. But Harry was obviously in no shape to be on his own, and Zayn wondered if maybe he just needed to get over himself a little. </p>
<p>"I guess," Zayn sighed, opening the door and letting Harry stumble in. "Hang on- oh, Haz, come on," he protested as Harry immediately walked into his bathroom, turning the sink on and sticking his mouth underneath it, attempting to drink the water. "Moron, don't do that," Zayn scolded him, knocking him back. "I'll get you a glass, for God's sake," he muttered, walking back out to the bar to grab him a glass and some ice. When he returned to the bathroom, Harry had migrated to the floor, resting his head against the rim of the bathtub with his knees pulled up to his chest. Zayn shook his head and handed him the glass. "Drink this." </p>
<p>"'M not thirsty anymore," Harry said slowly, letting his eyes close. </p>
<p>"I'm not asking, I'm telling," Zayn muttered, reaching over to tilt the glass towards Harry's lips. Harry made a noise that sounded like a whine, but drank some more water nonetheless. Zayn couldn't stop thinking about how cute he was all pouty like this, and leaned over, gently pinching Harry's cheek. Harry flinched away from him with a frown and Zayn chuckled. "Your poor thing," he snickered and Harry shot him a glare from over the glass. </p>
<p>Zayn couldn't stop laughing at him. "Christ, Haz. Listen, I'm going to be up for a while. Hang out here for a bit and I'll make sure you don't choke in your sleep, yeah?" </p>
<p>"Thanks," Harry sighed and stumbled out of the bathroom. He eyed Zayn and pushed his shirt over his head with a smirk. "We gonna...?" </p>
<p>Zayn was slightly taken aback by the question. They usually didn't have to ask each other about fooling around, it was just kind of a thing that happened. "Nah, Haz, you're too plastered. Later," he said. Harry pouted slightly, but collapsed onto the bed, spreading across it. </p>
<p>Zayn rolled his eyes and toed off his shoes, slipping into bed beside him. "Oh, Har- for God's sake," he muttered, nudging Harry slightly over so that he could play video games comfortably. </p>
<p>To his surprise, Harry stayed up watching him for quite some time. He cheered Zayn on against the other team in Call of Duty and he was eventually sober enough for them to have a real conversation. They'd been up for a few hours when Harry suddenly pushed the control out of Zayn's hands and tossed his leg over Zayn's hips, straddling him. "Hey," he murmured. </p>
<p>Zayn slid his hands over Harry's legs, sighing in exasperation. "What are you doing?" </p>
<p>"What we usually do," Harry smirked, nimble fingers starting to pull at Zayn's shirt. He leaned down to kiss him. "Don't you want to?" </p>
<p>Zayn took hold of Harry's hips and pushed him over, pressing Harry back against the bed. Harry smiled eagerly up at him, pulling at Zayn's shirt. "Well?" </p>
<p>Zayn sighed and sat back, shaking his head. He remembered that stupid, filthy sign he'd seen. He hadn't been able to push away his unpleasant thoughts about it since then. Harry propped himself on his elbows, ready to listen. "You're never... you never think about anyone else while we're... do you?" </p>
<p>Despite the barely coherent string of words, Harry seemed to immediately understand what he meant. "No," he said right away, frowning. "Of course not. Do you?" Zayn shook his head. "That's why you've been pissed at me? You thought I was thinking about someone else when we're together?" </p>
<p>Zayn pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his arms on them. "No, not really," he sighed, scratching at his eyebrows irritably. He squirmed a little under Harry's intense gaze. "I don't know," he muttered. "All of this crap with you and Louis is-" </p>
<p>"Total crap," Harry cut him off. "That's exactly what it is." </p>
<p>Zayn sighed. "Come on, you've never thought about him like that?" </p>
<p>Harry shrugged. "I mean... no. Honestly, no. Maybe for like a day when I first met him, but I've never wanted to hook up with him. That's gross. It's all a joke." </p>
<p>Zayn scoffed, immediately reaching for the pack of cigarettes he'd kept on the side table. "The fans don't think so," he muttered bitterly, putting one between his teeth. "They think that you love him, that you want him to fuck you." </p>
<p>Just as quickly as he raised his lighter to his mouth, Harry was there, snatching his cigarette and staring at him intensely, only an inch away. "Fuck what they think," he said in a clear, deep voice. "I don't want him." </p>
<p>Zayn huffed. "Yeah?" </p>
<p>"Zayn, come on. You know I don't," Harry sighed and Zayn squirmed. "What's really bothering you?" </p>
<p>"Okay, I know," Zayn muttered. "I'm just... sick of <em>other </em>people not knowing." </p>
<p>"Oh," Harry sighed and thought for a second. "I mean, nobody <em>really </em>thinks-" </p>
<p>"Yes, they do," Zayn snapped, frowning. "Haz, you're not stupid. Pay attention. They really think you and Louis are boyfriends." </p>
<p>Harry chewed on his lip for a second and then nodded. "Okay, I'll stop joking about it." </p>
<p>"Yeah? You sure?" </p>
<p>"Yeah," Harry whispered and collided their lips together. He pushed Zayn back against the bed, climbing over him. Zayn gave in right away, sliding his hands up Harry's back. Harry sat up, pulling Zayn's belt off. "I don't ever think about him when I'm doing this," he said. "How can I prove it to you?" </p>
<p>Zayn grinned when he realized what Harry was getting at. "I've got some ideas," he chuckled and pulled Harry down against him. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The one with the feeling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>2012</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Zayn</strong>
</p>
<p>Zayn sighed and stretched, waiting for Harry to come back. It was four in the morning, but they'd been together all night and neither of them cared to try and get any sleep at this point. </p>
<p>His birthday had passed three days ago, and since then, Harry had been a proper tease, whispering about all the things he was going to do when they finally got a chance to be alone. Zayn knew that Harry liked to spoil people on their birthdays and he'd gotten restless thinking about how Harry might do that in bed. </p>
<p>They'd finally gotten their chance to have a room and needless to say, Harry didn't disappoint him. Zayn didn't know if there was any part of his body left that Harry hadn't touched or kissed, over and over again. After their last round, Harry had whispered that he had to go get something, quick dressing and running back to his room. Zayn hadn't been able to do anything but lie there, head in the clouds. He had no intention of coming back down any time soon. He didn't know how to explain how he was feeling other than completely blissed out. </p>
<p>He turned his head as Harry came back in, hands behind his back. "I got you something for your birthday," Harry said, smiling shyly. "I, uh... I wasn't really able to wrap it though." </p>
<p>Zayn grinned, sitting up with the sheets over his lip. "Did you, babe? Show me." </p>
<p>Harry brought his hands around and revealed a small tattoo gun. Zayn raised his eyebrows as Harry sat beside him, handing it over. "I've got all the other stuff with it, you know, like the antiseptic and all the colors, I just couldn't bring it in all at once." </p>
<p>Zayn looked it over, smiling as Harry handed it to him. "Oh, babe, this is sick," he laughed, leaning in when Harry pressed a kiss to his cheek. He eyed Harry with a sly smile. "So, what do you want first?" </p>
<p>Harry grinned, slipping his hand over Zayn's thigh to squeeze it gently. "Whatever you want." </p>
<p>Zayn's heart pounded a bit when he said that. He smiled. "You'll let me decide?" </p>
<p>Harry nodded, like it was the easiest decision in the world, and that made Zayn's insides feel mushy. "Of course," he said. "You won't put anything dumb. You're the one who will have to look at it if you do," he pointed out and Zayn laughed. </p>
<p>"I want to practice with it," he mused. "It's a little different from Adam's," he said. He'd used their friends tattoo gun to give his first tattoo ever, which was a small A on Harry's forearm. Harry had inexplicably trusted him then, too. "Did you ever want something small?" </p>
<p>"I don't really have too many ideas right now," Harry admitted. "You think about it, okay?" </p>
<p>Zayn looked over the gun while Harry left to go get the rest of the supplies. It was really nice, and small, so they could bring it around on the tour easily. If they didn't have the job they had, Zayn might've fretted about how much money Harry had spent on it. It made him flush a little, thinking about Harry trying to pick out the best of the best. <em>Just for me. </em></p>
<p>When Harry returned, his arms were full and he dumped all of the colors unceremoniously onto the bed, which made Zayn roll his eyes. The second Harry sat down, Zayn slid over to him and pulled him close, kissing him. "I forgot to say thank you," Zayn murmured as they broke apart. "Thank you. I love it," he sighed as Harry wrapped his arms over Zayn's waist, hugging him close. </p>
<p>"You're so welcome, baby," Harry murmured in his ear. </p>
<p>Zayn kissed him again and Harry sighed against him. "Should we do matching ones, babe?" </p>
<p>Harry immediately perked up, eyes shining. "You want to?" Zayn nodded. "Yeah, okay. What should we do?" </p>
<p>Zayn shrugged. "I don't know," he murmured, pressing another soft kiss against Harry's lips. "Let's... do something about us? 'Cause, you know, it's you and me, always, yeah?" </p>
<p>Harry looked unbelievably happy at that, which made Zayn, in turn, even happier. They brainstormed for a while, and Zayn was the one who finally thought of it. He remembered what he'd said to Harry just before the first night they'd ever spent alone, and he pulled out a notepad so that he could write down the words, making sure they looked similar enough. He didn't let Harry peek until he was done. </p>
<p>Harry sat just behind him, so he could let one arm rest on Zayn's hip and hook his chin over Zayn's shoulder, looking at the drawing. </p>
<p>
  <em>Don't think I won't...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Might as well...</em>
</p>
<p>Harry eyed it for a second. Zayn could see the moment he understood because he broke into a knowing smile, remembering. "I like it," he said. "How should we write it?" </p>
<p>Zayn shrugged. "You just write mine and I'll write yours? However we want." </p>
<p>Harry grinned. "Okay," he said quietly. "And where should we put them?" </p>
<p>Zayn smiled. "I don't know. What do you think, gorgeous?" </p>
<p>Harry thought for a second and smirked. "I don't know, I think I'll have to take a look at my canvas," he sighed faux-dramatically, pushing on Zayn's chest. "Lay out for me." </p>
<p>Zayn snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes as he slid down the bed, chuckling as Harry moved on top of him. He felt warm as Harry's eyes travelled over his body, hands stroking over his chest. Harry smiled and moved back, pushing Zayn's legs apart so he could lie between them, arms settling around his hips. Harry glanced up at him mischievously and pressed a kiss against the black heart tattoo on Zayn's stomach, which was the first one they'd ever matched. Zayn slid his fingers into Harry's hair. "This side is mine," Harry whispered against his skin, and Zayn bit his lip. Harry ran his thumb over Zayn's other hipbone, and leaned over to kiss him there, too. He glanced up at Zayn. "I want this side, too." </p>
<p>Zayn took hold of Harry's face, stroking his cheek. "Okay," he murmured and Harry smiled. "Whatever you want, babe." He meant it, too. In that moment, for some reason, he was fairly sure he would try to give Harry anything he asked for from here on out. <em>Anything. </em></p>
<p>Harry fell asleep after the tattoos, crashed out beside him and snoring lightly. He was in for a rude awakening in an hour when they were supposed to be getting on the bus to their next venue. Zayn was lying behind Harry, holding him close. <em>We fit together perfectly, </em>he thought. </p>
<p>Zayn didn't know exactly how to explain what that felt like, but it was there. Right underneath the surface, every single time he fell asleep with Harry's arm draped over him, or Harry laughed happily against him as their lips slotted together or Harry let his inhibitions down and called him <em>baby. </em>He'd thought about that feeling constantly. Things with Harry felt so good and right. Sometimes he was able to ignore it, push it aside like it didn't matter, and pretend like he'd be perfectly fine whenever they'd have to end it. Other times it snuck up on him and hit him like a train. </p>
<p>It occurred to him that Harry had only ever spent the night like this once before. They always split up after hooking up, because there was always the risk they'd sleep through alarms and get caught. <em>That can't happen. </em>The deeply-buried-away-truth was that Zayn almost always considered spending the night with Harry after. He always wanted to be with Harry, because he loved laying beside him. He could listen to Harry talk for hours. When they were sharing beds on tour, he loved to sleep beside him and tangle their fingers and legs together, because Harry always sneakily kissed him, as dangerous as it was. </p>
<p>The first time Harry slept over through the whole night, Zayn had woken up the most well rested and content he had been in months. It was the most at peace he had felt in months. Sleeping with Harry's arm around him was the safest he'd felt since the band started. Like he could stay there for the rest of his life, in bed with Harry, and never complain. And it scared the HELL out of him. So, he'd decided that it was a luxury that wasn't worth the risk. Maybe it was unfair, because maybe Harry deserved more of him. Zayn was scared to lose that feeling, but even more so, he was scared that he'd never felt that way after waking up next to a girl.</p>
<p>The feeling had crept back on him again earlier that week when his family had come to visit him for his birthday. He thought about how his sisters had blushed when Harry spoke to them and soaked up every second of his attention. He thought about how his mum had been doused in the Harry Styles charm and had basically fallen head over heels for him. He thought about how his dad had gruffly pulled Harry into a hug and thanked him for being such a good friend to Zayn in a way that sounded lighter than it actually was. He'd felt so pleased and proud that his family liked Harry so much. Like he was dying to stand beside Harry and tell them, <em>yeah, this guy you all love so much? He's with me. He's mine. That's right. </em>Except that was the one thing he'd never be able to do. </p>
<p>The feeling had risen up again before their show that night as he'd watched Harry playing with Lux. He'd found himself in a daydream of watching her playing on a playground in primary school with Harry at his side, like always. And they had this normal life where they could walk hand in hand down the street and pick her up from school for Lou without anyone staring at them. And it was so, so happy. </p>
<p>He felt it again at this moment with Harry's back flush against his chest. Harry's fingers were lightly linked with Zayn's, which were tossed around his waist. Zayn felt... complete. It felt right. It just fit. <em>But it can't. </em>He felt a sad weight in his chest and buried his face into Harry's hair, taking in the feeling before his mind overthought it away. This would have to end someday, he knew. But not now. <em>Please, God. Not now. </em></p>
<p>As if on a cue, Harry stirred and sleepily turned over in his arms. He kissed Zayn softly before falling back asleep, like he knew exactly what Zayn was thinking, that he'd been feeling insecure about them and needed some reassurance that they were okay, at least for now. That soft kiss threatened to turn Zayn into a puddle of adoration forever. All he could do was hold on for dear life. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The one when Niall finds out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>2012</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Niall</strong>
</p><p>Niall was fucking <em>drunk. </em></p><p>He stumbled through the house, which belonged to some socialite that had locked her sights on Harry once at an afterparty in New York. She had invited them all to rage with her and her friends in D.C. two weeks later. Harry seemed uninterested in her, but they'd all argued with him to accept the invitation since they were never allowed to go to outsider parties, and this was one that Paul would allow them to go to. Niall had promise Harry a bottle of tequila for accepting the invite, which he'd begrudgingly agreed to do. Niall understood; Harry didn't like to lead on girls that he didn't want to get with, but they all badly needed a chance to blow off steam. </p><p>He, Louis and Liam were playing beer pong for the better part of the evening with three guys who went to college nearby, and they were having a blast. People in Maryland took beer games pretty seriously, and that was coming from an Irishman. He occasionally caught a glimpse of the socialite- he'd figured out her name was Catherine- hanging all over Harry, but it seemed like Zayn had come to his rescue, so Niall hadn't worried about it too much. </p><p>He was surprised how many of the girls were down to play drinking games with them, and it was one of the only parties they'd been to in a while where not too many of the attendees cared about their fame, or even knew what they were famous for. He'd been talking to a girl named Jackie all night, who had never heard of One Direction, and things were going really well with her. Niall intended on having her spend the night with him, and although her friends had pulled her aside, she'd promised to find him before she left. </p><p>Exhausted from consuming at least a dozen beers, Niall crashed onto one of the couches in the basement, where only a few people were smoking and talking far more quietly than the people upstairs. He figured he'd wait for Jackie there, who had texted that she had gone out to get Backwoods, but that she'd be back in a half hour. </p><p>Niall was fucking drunk, but he wasn't the worst of the bunch somehow. Zayn hadn't had as much to drink, but he'd been smoking along with their beers, and he was twisted. Harry was completely plastered, buzzing from the drinks that girls had been sending all night long. Liam and Louis were long gone, retreating back to the hotel around midnight to get some rest. A lot of people had gone, and it was definitely starting to die down. </p><p>Zayn and Harry were chilling on the couch in the back of the room, talking quietly to each other. Harry was watching Zayn smoke with intrigue, tracing his every move. Niall shook his head a little bit so that he could focus, squinting at them in the darkness. </p><p>"Shot-gunning," Zayn said to Harry, who stared at him in oblivion. Zayn rolled his eyes. "You know, shot-gunning?" he repeated, like that explained it. Harry shook his head. "Breathe in when I blow out, yeah?" </p><p>Before Niall could put two thoughts together, Zayn had taken a hit of his joint and gripped Harry's chin between his thumb and forefinger, roughly puling his face close. Zayn blew his smoke out and it all funneled into Harry's mouth, whose eyes stayed locked on Zayn's. As Niall watched them, he suddenly had the feeling that he was invading a private moment. </p><p>Harry tilted his head back to let the smoke tumble out and Zayn, who had clearly lost all awareness of his surroundings, was pulling him close and kissing him. <em>Really </em>kissing him. And if Niall wasn't mistaken, Harry was kissing him back, like it was the easiest decision in the world. </p><p>Niall's heart pounded with nerves and he was immediately torn between his need to stop them before anyone could see and his overwhelming desire to not let them know that he <em>had </em>seen them. The very last thing he wanted to do was have to talk to either of them about this. He was frozen for so long between the two decisions that they stopped on their own. Harry pulled back and leaned into Zayn's neck, whispering against it. Niall quickly glanced away, pretending to be preoccupied with his phone and tried to look indifferent when Zayn walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. "Niall, mate. You okay here on your own?" </p><p>Niall blinked in surprise. "Uh, yeah, sure. You're going back?" </p><p>Zayn nodded as Harry got up from the couch. "Yeah, man. See you later," he said and Niall felt embarrassed as Harry rested his hand on Zayn's lower back, turning him towards the door. As they walked out of the room together, Niall's drunk mind tried to catch up with what he'd just seen. He turned to watch them walk out, wondering if he should go after them and warn them to be more careful, but Jackie passed by them just as they walked out and when she grinned at him, Niall decided that Zayn and Harry could take care of themselves. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The one where everything goes unsaid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>early 2013</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Harry </strong>
</p><p>Zayn didn't like him to spend the night. </p><p>Harry was perfectly aware of this unspoken rule, but he hated it nonetheless. Zayn had started to get nervous and uncomfortable after they slept together. He'd always come up with a reason to leave before the morning, or found a reason to have Harry leave before anyone could come in and see them. Harry understood; it seemed scary to think that somebody could see them in the morning after they'd fucked. Scarier than before, even though they weren't exactly innocently sleeping before. As much as it made Harry feel uneasy, he tried not to mind doing what Zayn wanted. </p><p>He supposed Zayn technically had no obligation to him, so he kept his mouth shut every time Zayn left, biting back a pathetic plea for him to stay. He knew, as irritated as it made him, that Zayn couldn't be caught sleeping with him now that he was really with Perrie. It hurt to watch them, all smiles and kissing in front of other people and holding hands. Zayn reminded him time and time again that it was just necessary for them to be with girls, and every time Harry mentioned that he wanted to stop, Zayn would shrug it off and chastise him for being too idealistic. It wasn't meant to be cruel; it was just how he saw it.</p><p>In an effort to keep their agreement, Harry had agreed to let their manager, Chris, set him up on a date with Cara Delevingne. Chris was over the moon about it, babbling for days about how much good press it would bring him and how lovely she was. He was meant to meet her tomorrow for dinner, although he was prepared to cancel it if Zayn asked him to. But Zayn had almost no reaction to the news, so the dinner was on. </p><p>During their show that night, Zayn had tugged him close and whispered in his ear, "<em>I'm on my own tonight, babe," </em>and that he wanted him to come over. Harry had come alive in anticipation, and performed the rest of the show with high energy. On the other hand, Zayn had seemed zoned out and distracted. Even Niall seemed to notice and had tried to pull Zayn out of it, pushing him around on stage playfully. Harry had asked Louis if he knew something was wrong, but Louis had shrugged it off, reminding him that sometimes Zayn just got like this; stoic and quiet and irritable. Harry wasn't so sure that was it. </p><p>When they finally got back to the hotel, he had wasted no time following Zayn back to his room, shoving him against the door the second it was closed and kissing him senseless. Zayn was his perfect, regular self when they were having sex; attentive and sensitive and erotic. When they were done, Harry waited for Zayn to give him a reason that he'd have to leave, but it never came. </p><p>Zayn was resting back against the pillows, watching TV with a blank look on his face that made it clear he was a million miles away. He kept one hand on Harry's arm, stroking it absent-mindedly. When it looked like he was slipping into sleep, Harry did the only thing he really knew to do; he got up to leave. </p><p>Zayn immediately opened his eyes and looked over at him, frowning. Harry paused and sat back down, eyeing him. "What is it?" he asked quietly. </p><p>Zayn started to say something but immediately hesitated, looking away. He shrugged and Harry bit back a sigh, wishing more than anything that Zayn would just talk to him for once. He took hold of Zayn's leg, squeezing it. "I could stay," he offered. </p><p>Zayn let out a breath, nodding. "Yeah, uhm...," He cleared his throat. "I mean... that'd be fine. If you want to." </p><p>Harry smiled. He leaned over, kissing Zayn's cheek. "Yeah, thanks," he murmured against it. He took Zayn's hand, draping it over his shoulders and leaned back against Zayn's chest. Zayn chuckled in his ear, pressing a kiss into his hair. "Want to watch a movie?" Harry offered, grabbing the remote. </p><p>Zayn nodded, nuzzling into him. "Whatever you want, babe," he whispered. Harry smiled and picked a random movie. He stroked the inside of Zayn's thigh gently, running his fingertips lightly over his soft skin because he knew how much Zayn liked being touched there and how soothing he found it. It was working, because in a few minutes, Zayn rested his cheek on the top of Harry's head and in a few more, he was asleep, snoring softly. </p><p>Harry let his eyes close, taking a deep breath. He wondered why Zayn was allowing him to stay. It occurred to him that Zayn pretty much did all of the reassuring in their... <em>relationship? </em>Zayn was always promising him that what he had with Perrie wasn't as deep as it seemed, that he wouldn't stop wanting Harry even though he had her. Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd made the same promises. Mostly because Zayn never asked him to, but that didn't mean he never needed to hear it. </p><p>Harry sighed, suddenly feeling a little guilty. He shifted, which caused Zayn to stir, lifting his head. "Haz," he murmured, rubbing at his eyes. </p><p>"Hey," Harry whispered, pulling the sheets back so that they could climb under. "Come here." </p><p>Zayn sleepily followed his head, eyes closing for a second his head hit the pillow. Harry slipped his arm around Zayn's waist, pulling him in, and bit back a sigh of relief as Zayn leaned back against him. He pressed a kiss against Zayn's shoulder, holding him tightly. "Can I stay?" he asked quietly. </p><p>"Yeah," Zayn sighed, putting his hand on top of Harry's and tangling their fingers together. </p><p>"Zayn."</p><p>"Mm." </p><p>"You know..." Harry swallowed his apprehension, stroking Zayn's stomach. "You know I want you so much, right? Like all of the time." </p><p>Zayn chuckled. "Is that right?" </p><p>"And more than anyone," Harry said and Zayn let out a breath. "Way more." </p><p>"I know, babe," Zayn murmured, squeezing his hand. Another moment passed before he whispered, "Thank you." </p><p>Harry dropped the subject, letting him slip back into sleep. He hoped all of this was enough to reassure Zayn, even if it had nothing to do with what was really bothering him tonight. He had no idea if spending the night would make Zayn feel better, but he hoped it would. There was always the chance that Zayn would be pissed in the morning, stressed about somebody finding out about them, but for now, he was sleeping and looking as peaceful as Harry had seen him in weeks. Harry closed his eyes, trying to push all of his worried thoughts to the back of his mind. Zayn was letting him stay and he would just feel happy about it, and hope it would happen again. </p><p>*****</p><p>
  <em>Two weeks later</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Zayn</strong>
</p><p>Zayn watched Harry from across the hotel room, fidgeting with the small velvet bag in his hands. They were getting ready to go to the airport; all of them were getting a chance to go home for a while to film for the movie. He and Harry had shared a hotel room and spent the entire night together, since they didn't know how long it would be until they would get another chance. It was nice, but it had left Zayn filled with anxiety, which had been building since they'd been told about their little break. He hated to admit it, but he was worried that Harry would realize he wanted to stop while they were apart, and that they'd come back and things would be totally different between them. He tried to remind himself that he had no real reason to be worried about that, but he hadn't been able to shut his brain up about it. </p><p>He glanced down at the bag in his hands, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He'd bought Harry a gift; a ring that would match his own. It was a gamble, he knew. They had matching ink all over their bodies, but matching rings seemed a little more intense. He wanted that, but he really had no idea how Harry would react. He didn't want to talk, because he had no idea what he could even say to Harry about what they were and he knew he would stumble over his words. He hadn't been able to say anything about Harry spending the night lately either, even though it made him ridiculously happy and he wished more than anything that he had the courage to tell him. He just really needed Harry to know that he wouldn't stop wanting him. He felt like the ring could do his talking for him. </p><p>Harry was standing over his suitcase on the other side of the room, scrolling through his phone. They had five or ten minutes left before they were due to go downstairs to get into the shuttles, and Zayn knew it was now or never. </p><p>He tossed the bag over in his hands nervously as he walked over to Harry. "Hazza." </p><p>Harry glanced up at him. "Hm?" </p><p>Zayn lifted the bag up. "I got you something." </p><p>The ring was from a jewelry store that they both liked to shop form, so Harry recognized the bag instantly. He blinked at it in surprise before looking back at Zayn and putting his phone in his pocket. "A ring?" </p><p>Zayn smiled and took the ring out, holding it in his palm for Harry to see. It was a silver ring, with a large black stone in the center. He handed it to Harry, who looked it over. His fingers traced over the stone carefully. "It's like yours," he commented, nodding at Zayn's hand. </p><p>Zayn cleared his throat nervously. "Right, well... I got it for you to- to think of me, when you wear it." </p><p>Harry eyed him curiously and smiled. "Yeah?" </p><p>"Will you wear it for me, while we're on break?" Zayn asked. He felt so exposed like this, anxiously awaiting for Harry's approval. </p><p>Harry glanced him over for a second and then nodded. Zayn willed Harry to say something else; he was dying to know what Harry was thinking. "Yeah. Which finger?" </p><p>Zayn smiled and took the ring back, sliding it onto Harry's pointer finger. "This one. I wear mine on this one." </p><p>"Right," Harry chuckled. He held his finger up to Zayn's, looking over the similar rings. Zayn locked their fingers together, rings side by side, and felt his head pound as Harry smiled. </p><p>"You like it?" he asked quietly. </p><p>"Yeah," Harry nodded enthusiastically. "It's really nice." </p><p>"Good," Zayn sighed in relief. </p><p>Harry smiled at him. "Thank you." </p><p>"Come here, babe," Zayn murmured, tossing his arms around Harry's middle to pull him closer. Harry leaned into him and Zayn kissed him for a while, reluctant to let go. </p><p>Harry smiled, brushing his hand over Zayn's hair. "You gonna forget about me while we're at home?" </p><p>Zayn sighed. It made him feel a little better that Harry had been worrying about the same thing. "Not a chance," he murmured and meant it. </p><p>A loud knock on the door made them both spring apart, but it was just Paul, calling them down to get in the vans. They both moved to grab their things, but just before they opened the door, Harry leaned over and kissed him on the cheek for a long moment, which was the last bit of reassurance he needed before they separated. </p><p>Later in the following days, when Zayn got pictures and clips sent to their group message of Harry while he was filming, it made his heart swell to see him wearing the ring, on his right index finger, just like he'd promised he would. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The one when they're so close</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>summer 2013</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Zayn</strong>
</p><p>Zayn didn't care much that Harry had become "the face" of the band. It bothered him occasionally in passing, because Harry certainly got special treatment over him and the others, but because he knew how Harry was, it didn't get to him. Harry always stood up for him and the other guys, and he never took advantage of the power he had. Besides, it was hard to say that Harry didn't deserve it. He did; he was lovely and charming and had a powerful voice and just the right amount of confidence. He always said the right things, and he genuinely meant them, too. </p><p>The only time Zayn cared that Harry was the "face" was when the press got out of line. Harry took a regular beating in the papers and online for being a 'womanizer', having his every movement scrutinized. He was accused of sleeping with every single one of his friends, and that was putting it mildly. Despite this, their managers shipped Harry out to every press event that they could, and he was never really allowed to decline. It was only getting worse, and suddenly, Harry was having a hard time going anywhere. Every once in a while when they finally got out of the crowds, Harry would be shaking, only he would never let on that he was scared. Everywhere he went, paparazzi chased him down, and Zayn could tell it was starting to wear on him. </p><p>That morning in their hotel room in Nashville, after the press had chased Harry down while he was getting coffee, he looked so miserable and exhausted. Zayn hauled him back into bed, hugging him close for a while to make him feel like he could be safe again. </p><p>Zayn watched him as they got ready to go to the venue. Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed, moving his arm in circles and wincing. "Haz, you okay?" Harry nodded and Zayn eyed him, slightly amused. "Um, you don't look it, babe." </p><p>"My back hurts," Harry sighed. "It always hurts, but I slept a little funny last night, I think. It's fine, I just have to stretch it." </p><p>Zayn smiled, walking over and sliding his hand over the nape of Harry's neck, rubbing it softly. Harry's head tilted back into his touch and Zayn kissed his neck gently. "Maybe I'll give you a little massage after the flight tonight, yeah?" </p><p>Harry chuckled, sighing appreciatively. "Thank you." </p><p>They landed in Texas an hour after their Nashville show, and the airport was already swarming. Although all of their names were being called behind the windows, Harry's was easily the loudest, and not even by the girls- it was the damn press. One look out of the windows caused Harry's face to pale. He fidgeted around with his bag, taking deep breaths. Zayn put a steady hand in the middle of his back. "You feeling okay?" he asked gently. Harry nodded. <em>Liar. </em></p><p>Their security guards surrounded each of them and started moving towards the door. Zayn was behind Harry and close enough to hear his breathing hitch as they walked out. Niall, Liam and Louis passed through somewhat seamlessly, and then the crowd surged like he'd never seen before as they saw Harry, pushing in close. Harry stumbled slightly, unsure of where to step as the lights blinded him, and the security guards were too focused at pushing everyone back to guide him.</p><p>Zayn abandoned his own guard, shouldering his way through to Harry. "Babe?" he said, and Harry turned his head back. Zayn grabbed onto his arm, pushing against him. "C'mon, babe," he said quietly, guiding Harry through the crowd. Harry started pushing his way past people and Zayn followed behind him until they were in the SUV. </p><p>When the door was finally shut behind them and the noise died down, Zayn turned to him. Harry was trembling, but hiding it well by tapping his fingers against his leg. The other three boys were talking, and Zayn eventually joined in as well, but Harry didn't. He quietly looked out of the window the entire way to the hotel, presumably getting ready to face the same welcome. </p><p>To their collective relief, the hotel got them through a sealed back entrance. They all went to their rooms, and as usual, Harry slipped his spare key into Zayn's palm before they went their separate ways to unpack. He tossed his stuff onto his bed and didn't hesitate to rush over to Harry's room. </p><p>He knocked on the door before slipping the key in. "Harry, it's me," he said, walking in. None of Harry's stuff was touched and he was just lying on his stomach, head resting on his folded arms. Zayn sighed and closed the door, walking over to him. "You asleep?" he asked quietly. </p><p>Harry turned his head, eyes closed. "Not yet," he murmured. </p><p>Zayn passed a hand through Harry's hair, sitting beside him. "Are you okay, babe?" </p><p>Harry nodded tightly. "I'm really tired." </p><p>"Me too," Zayn sighed. "You want to just get under the blankets? Go to sleep?" </p><p>"Yeah, in a minute," Harry murmured. "Too tired to move." </p><p>"They're such assholes," Zayn muttered and Harry cracked an eye open. "The press," he clarified. "They're fucking vultures, especially the ones tonight," Harry nodded. "The way they swarm in on you like that," he grumbled, twisting one of Harry's curls gently around his finger. "It isn't okay." </p><p>"No," Harry sighed. "But I suppose they're just trying to do their job." </p><p>"You don't have to defend them," Zayn protested mildly. "It's just me in here. I can tell that you hate it." </p><p>"I don't know if there's anything I can do about it," Harry sighed miserably. "I'm tired of it but I'm tired of complaining about it, too. I sound like a broken record. I'm just... tired." </p><p>"Have you talked to Annie?" Zayn suggested. Annie was one of their lawyers, the only one any of them really liked. "Maybe there's something legal you could do about it. You wouldn't even have to to do anything, just sign some papers maybe, and she would take care of the rest." </p><p>"You think?" Harry mused sleepily. He slipped one hand over Zayn's crossed leg, rubbing it softly. Zayn smiled, running the back of a few fingers over Harry's knuckles. </p><p>"Sure, why not?" he shrugged. Harry looked up at him and smiled tiredly. "Let's just go to bed, Haz. We can think about it some more in the morning." </p><p>Harry nodded and pushed himself up. He wrapped one hand over the back of Zayn's neck, kissing him. "Thanks for taking care of me, baby." </p><p>Zayn smiled against him. "No problem. Still need that massage?" </p><p>Harry grinned and shook his head, pressing another gentle kiss onto Zayn's top lip. "Just get into bed with me." </p><p>*****</p><p>
  <em>Don't move, don't move, don't move.</em>
</p><p>Harry willed his body to be still. He'd woken up an hour ago to find Zayn draped over his chest, suddenly wearing one of his hoodies. It made him grin from ear to ear to think that Zayn had gotten cold in the middle of the night, picked up Harry's sweater, tossed it on and slipped closer to him, trying to get warm. </p><p>Now, Zayn was snoring softly on his chest, muttering in his sleep occasionally and nestling closer to Harry every time a noise threatened to pull him out of his sleep. Harry silently cursed God when his phone rang, and he reached out his left arm, snatching it and denying the call without even looking at it. There was no way he was going to ruin <em>this. </em></p><p>Zayn looked... angelic. Beautiful. Eyelashes for miles, cheekbones made out of glass, features carved out of marble. Harry could hardly believe he got to see him like this. That Zayn allowed him to. It felt like an honor to have this boy lying on his chest. He looked so soft, with his cheek squished against Harry's chest and his eyes moving behind the lids. Zayn would never let just anybody see him like this. <em>I mean something to him. </em></p><p>They were on the brink of something here. <em>We're so close to it. </em>He didn't know what exactly, but they were just inches away from something good, something real, he could feel it. He would drop everything to be with Zayn. Everything and everyone. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The one with all of the fighting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>end of summer 2013</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Zayn</strong>
</p><p>Zayn took a deep breath as he walked to the hotel conference room, trying to shake his nerves. He tried to tell himself that everything was going to go well; that the guys wouldn't give him any crap about the engagement news and the fact that he hadn't told them himself (except for Louis). Perrie slipped her hand into his, giving it a little squeeze as they walked into the room. His heart picked up speed as the engagement ring on her hand pressed into his skin and he winced uncomfortably. </p><p>They were having a meeting with management about the upcoming press tour for the movie, and the team was going to fill everyone else in on the plan to announce the engagement at the start of it. The plan was meant to boost Perrie's profile and get Little Mix some larger international attention. Zayn didn't mind that that was the plan; Chris had been pushing the idea of an engagement to him for weeks and it was no secret that they were planning to use it for promotions. </p><p>The only person Zayn was really worried about was Harry. He didn't really know how Harry would react to the news. Although Zayn knew this was just the natural progression of things, he wasn't sure Harry would see it that way. Zayn hoped that he'd understand that nothing was really different. Maybe when he actually got married they'd have to stop doing what they were doing, but things didn't have to change yet. They could still have what they had. </p><p>He sat across from Harry in the conference room, who was joking around with Liam. As usual, Harry greeted Perrie with the barest of "hey"'s and turned his attention away from her. Things had been a little awkward between them since Harry had seen the tattoo he'd gotten for her. He understood; their bodies were littered with tattoos that were only meant for each other. Zayn had tried to explain to that he'd gotten it because Perrie had been doubting his commitment to her and that this was his way of reassuring her, and that it didn't mean much to him. Harry had just nodded with a slight frown on his face, which quickly went away once Zayn started kissing him. Still, since then, it'd been hard to read Harry, which was new. Harry had always been an open book to Zayn, but now... the book was starting to close and Zayn couldn't figure out a way to open it back up. </p><p>He realized that he hadn't been listening to Chris or the rest of the team at all when his name was suddenly being called. Chris was smiling at him, and Zayn took a deep breath. <em>Here it comes. </em></p><p>"We do have some really good news," Chris said cheerfully, which made Zayn want to hit him for some reason. He briefly day dreamt about punching Chris in the face and watching him hit the floor. "Zayn has proposed to the lovely Perrie Edwards." </p><p>Everyone in the room perked up and Liam grinned at him, reaching across the table to high five him. "Alright, mate!" Niall whistled and Louis gave him a little "Oy, oy!", patting Zayn's shoulder roughly. Perrie grinned and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. </p><p>Zayn dared a glance in Harry's direction, but his face didn't betray any feelings, the same way it hadn't when he'd seen the tattoo. Harry smiled back at him briefly, before turning his attention back to Chris. </p><p>"We'll be announcing it to the public at the L.A. premiere of the movie so that she can get some exposure in the States," Chris explained, and Zayn glanced away, getting lost in his own thought again. </p><p>He eyed Harry for the rest of the meeting, who looked indifferent, although he stayed uncharacteristically quiet, wiggling his fingers and picking at hangnails. When Chris dismissed them, Harry was the first to get up. he left the room so quickly that when Zayn finally made it out, Perrie clinging to his arm, Harry was nowhere to be seen. </p><p>When they were on stage that night, Harry ignored him for the bulk of it, choosing to fool around with Liam and Niall, even Louis on occasion. Zayn wondered if Harry was doing that to punish him, since the crowds roared every time Harry and Louis even looked at each other, obsessed with their fake secret love. He wasn't proud of it, but he got in between them at one point, directing Harry to the opposite end of the stage. </p><p>Zayn paced in the little entryway by his door after the show, hoping to catch a glimpse of Harry so that they could talk before the afterparty. Harry hadn't answered any of his texts, and Zayn hoped he'd be harder to deny in person. Perrie had left to go have Lou do her hair before the party, and if Harry would just come <em>talk </em>to him for two seconds, he could fix this. </p><p>He opened his door the second he heard Harry's laughter echoing around the hallway. "Haz," he called to him. </p><p>"Hm?" Harry turned around and Zayn wished he didn't look so neutral when he did. "Oh, hey." </p><p>Zayn tilted his head back into his room. "Come hang out a second." </p><p>"I'm on my way to Niall's room," Harry shook his head. "But see you at the party." He turned back around and took a few strides before pausing, glancing over his shoulder impatiently. "Unless you want to come." It sounded so obligatory that Zayn itched to shove him. </p><p>"Um, no," Zayn clenched his jaw. "Just come in for a second, yeah?" </p><p>Harry sighed and shrugged. "Fine," he muttered, and Zayn closed the door behind them. Harry leaned back against the dresser and Zayn didn't miss the way his eyes landed on Perrie's suitcase for a second. "What's up?" </p><p>Zayn stood in front of him. "Look, um..." He didn't even really know what he wanted to say. He wasn't sure what there was <em>to </em>say. "About the engagement..." </p><p>"Yeah, congratulations," Harry said dryly, glancing down at his phone and scrolling through it. </p><p>Zayn swallowed, trying to catch his eye again. "Uh, yeah, thanks. Who knows, really, if we'll actually get married, but... thanks." </p><p>Harry nodded, clearly uninterested in the conversation. Zayn started to fidget, wishing Harry would give him <em>something. </em>Yell at him if he wanted to yell, tell him it was okay if that was really how he felt. <em>Anything. </em>Harry chuckled at something on his phone, standing up and turning towards the door. "I have to go show this to Niall." </p><p>"Harry," Zayn stopped him impatiently. </p><p>Harry turned around. "What do you expect out of me, honestly?" he scoffed. "You couldn't even tell me yourself." </p><p>Zayn sighed. "I know, babe, I just... I didn't know what to say." </p><p>"Yeah, well," Harry shrugged irritably. "Neither do I," he said and headed out, letting the door slam behind him. </p><p>Zayn couldn't stop watching Harry later that night, who was laughing and talking for hours at the party with some random girl. When Perrie pulled him into their room after the party was over, her long hair and nails suddenly looked alien to him and he couldn't even really pretend to be thinking of her. His head was filled with the feeling of Harry's talented fingers and the taste of his perfect, soft lips and... and <em>fuck. </em></p><p>"Sorry," he muttered to Perrie when she slipped some clothes back on. "I'm really tired." </p><p>She smiled at him, although he didn't know how much she believed him. "It's fine. I get it. Night." </p><p>"Night, babe," he sighed, although he was pretty sure there was no way he was going to get any sleep. He laid in bed for a while, mind racing, before he decided he couldn't take it anymore and got up. </p><p>His feet took him to Harry's room. <em>This is stupid. </em>He knew he probably shouldn't go there, and that Harry was probably asleep anyway, but he couldn't listen to the logical part of him anymore. Harry was slipping away from him fast. He knocked loudly. "Haz." </p><p>He knocked on the door again after a second, already exasperated and desperate. "Harry, come on." He took a step back, eyeing the door and waiting for an answer. He rolled his eyes. "I fucked up, alright, I know," he said, knocking again. "Will you let me in, for God's sake?" </p><p>The door swung open after a second and a girl walked through, smiling meekly at him. Zayn stepped back in surprise. It was the girl from the party. Her hair was messy and she looked like she'd just slipped her clothes back on. "Hi, Zayn," she said quietly, and glanced back into the room. "See ya." She slipped past him quickly and Zayn felt sick to his stomach. </p><p>He stood in front of the door like an idiot for a moment and walked through irritably, closing it behind him. Harry was out on the balcony in boxers, texting, and Zayn realized that he hadn't heard him knocking. </p><p>Harry looked surprised when he turned around and saw him, frowning. "Hey," he said, walking back into the room. </p><p>Zayn rubbed his arm awkwardly. "Hey. Who was that?" </p><p>The careless way that Harry shrugged pissed him off. "Isabelle something? Chatted to her at the after party." </p><p>"Right," Zayn muttered, clenching his jaw. "Didn't bother to get her last name, then?" </p><p>Harry narrowed his eyes before moving past him, grabbing his shirt and pants off the floor, which made Zayn feel even more sick. "Where's Perrie?" </p><p>"Asleep," Zayn said through gritted teeth. </p><p>"Oh?" Harry smirked, sauntering over. He was clearly a little drunk, but not so bad that he wasn't aware of what he was doing when he leaned over, kissing Zayn roughly. </p><p>Zayn shoved him away, glaring at him. Harry stared back at him with mock innocence. "What? Not what you came here for, baby?" </p><p>"I want to talk to you, actually," Zayn snapped. "I know you're mad I didn't tell you-" </p><p>"Save it," Harry muttered, pulling his pants back on. "I'm not interested." </p><p>"Oh, would you cut that shit out?" Zayn scoffed, sick of Harry's fake indifference. He knew by now that that wasn't how Harry really felt. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I didn't give you a bigger heads up that this was going to happen?" </p><p>"I'm not interested," Harry repeated, glaring at him before turning away and pulling his shirt on. "I'm done, by the way, with this. I'm sick of it." </p><p>Zayn scoffed, grabbing onto his arm. "What do you mean, you're done?" </p><p>Harry whirled back around and Zayn dropped his hand when he saw that Harry's eyes were filled with tears. "I <em>mean, </em>get the fuck out of my room, Zayn. I mean stop coming over when you're lonely or pissed off or whatever. I mean I'm done with... whatever the fuck we've been doing for the past year. Just... leave me alone from now on, alright?" </p><p>Zayn started to panic. "If you would just stop throwing a fit and listen to me for a second," he argued, and words were falling out of his mouth before he could even properly think about them. All he needed was for Harry to stop, slow down, think things through. This couldn't just be <em>over. </em>"You're not understanding that this doesn't change anything, okay? We aren't married, she isn't coming on the road with us, it isn't like anything is different really. All I did was give her a ring, but nothing about me and her is different and nothing about me and you is different." </p><p>"Oh, that makes it better," Harry scoffed. "No, really, thanks for clearing that up. If I'd known you give out rings like they're candy, I wouldn't have bothered to wear mine," he said scathingly. </p><p>That stung. "Enough," Zayn said through gritted teeth. Harry stopped, staring at the floor. "That's not fair." </p><p>Harry looked at him. "Isn't it, though?" Zayn couldn't answer, so Harry shook his head. "Get out, Zayn. I mean it. And don't let yourself back in." </p><p>Zayn sighed. "Hang on, Haz. For fuck's sake, you know I have to do this and you can't just give me a break-" </p><p>"Jesus fucking Christ, I'll go then," Harry snapped, pushing past Zayn. He paused at the door, rolling his eyes. "I talked to Isabelle all night. Maybe I didn't think to ask her fucking last name, but I made sure she only wanted me for one night before we-" he sighed. "Don't make me out to be some kind of asshole," he muttered, before slamming the door behind him. </p><p>Zayn didn't sleep at all that night. He paced around his hotel room, not caring if he woke up Perrie. He wondered what he could say to Harry to change his mind. The fact was that he didn't think he could lose Harry altogether. Even before they started sleeping together, Harry had kept him sane and feeling like he could keep going on with this life. <em>I can't lose him. Fuck. What am I going to do? </em></p><p>*****</p><p>
  <em>a week later</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Harry</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Alcohol. </em>
</p><p>Harry pushed past a few bodies to get to the bar, desperate to get his hands on something. He was beyond pissed after watching Zayn with Perrie all day <em>again, </em>who had come to visit the tour with Eleanor while they were in Toronto to film their perfume commercial. It seemed like she was deliberately flashing her ring in his face. His head had been reeling since he'd ended things with Zayn a while ago and he just needed his thoughts to stop racing, just for a minute. They'd all gone out to a popular nightclub to blow off steam, which Harry needed more than the rest of them. </p><p>"Hey, mate," Harry said to the bartender as he got to the counter, leaning over it. "Can you hook me up with a bottle of 1942?" He glanced back at their table where Niall and Liam were recruiting a pretty large group of people to hang out with them. "Actually, make that two, please, and send it back to my table." </p><p>He glanced around, cringing slightly as his eyes landed on Zayn and Louis' table, where Perrie and Eleanor were gossiping while their boyfriends rolled up joints at the table. Harry turned his back to them, trying to shake it off. It's not like he'd rather be in her place, talking with Eleanor while Zayn ignored him. It was just pissing him off to watch them be with people while he was alone. </p><p>"Hey." </p><p>Harry turned to see a young guy smiling at him, hand outstretched. "What's up, man? I'm Charles." <em>Australian. </em></p><p>Harry smiled, shaking his hand. "Harry. Long way from home, are you?" </p><p>Charles laughed. "Uh, yeah, a little. My agent sent me out here for some auditions. More shit is filmed in Canada than I thought." </p><p>Harry raised an eyebrow. "You're an actor? Have I seen anything you're in?" </p><p>Charles smirked. "Uh, maybe. You know 90210?"</p><p>"Oh, shit, yeah," Harry nodded, and immediately felt at ease knowing he was already in the business. </p><p>"My agent sent me to this club, too," Charles sighed. "I don't really know a ton of people here." </p><p>Harry smiled; he knew what that was like. When they first started out, going to afterparties was unbelievably intimidating, especially when their management sent them to ones where they were supposed to network and make connections. "Look, mate, I don't know how much I can help you with the television industry," he chuckled. "But if you feel like saying fuck it to networking for your agent and you just want to get drunk, that is definitely in my wheelhouse." </p><p>Charles grinned at him. "Yeah? Your friends won't mind?" </p><p>"Nah," Harry said, patting him on the shoulder and turning him in the direction of his table. "We're all just trying to blow off steam, right?" </p><p>Charles ended up being the life of the party. Girls flocked to him fast, and Liam and Niall liked him because he sent all of the girls in their direction, turning them down one after the other. Harry liked him because he was easy-going and liked to drink. Harry started to notice how attractive he was; tall and strong and confident. After his sixth shot, he found himself staring at Charles' eyes that were turned up the corners and thinking about how much they remind him of Zayn's. </p><p>He looked around only to find Zayn holding Perrie close and whispering to her, and he grabbed the bottle, downing another shot. The next few hours continued that way. He lost count of how many drinks he'd had when his body felt heavy and he couldn't lift his head off of the back of the leather booth, eyes locked on the blue and purple neon lights above him. </p><p>A body plopped down next to him, and he turned his head slightly. It was Charles, who grinned at him. "You look obliterated, bro," he laughed. </p><p>Harry grinned back. "I am, mate." </p><p>"Off of 1942, no less," Charles smirked. "I'm more into the classics." </p><p>Harry raised an eyebrow. "What are the classics?" </p><p>"Uh..." Charles tried not to smile. "Jose Cuervo?" </p><p>They both burst into what could only be described as giggles, and Charles slung his arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him a little loser. "You see that girl over there?" Charles said, pointing towards the bar. "She's been looking at you for the better part of an hour. You should make your move." </p><p>Harry scoffed. "I'm not interested." </p><p>"Bro, you literally didn't even look at her. I've helped your boys out tonight, let me help you." </p><p>"I don't need help," Harry laughed, not caring how arrogant it made him sound. "Doesn't matter what she looks like, anyway, I won't want her," he sighed, closing his eyes and settling back against Charles' arm. </p><p>"You have a girl back home or something?" Charles asked. </p><p>"Or something," Harry muttered. </p><p>"<em>Harry." </em></p><p>He picked his head up off of Charles' arm to see Zayn standing in front of them, looking all but happy. He smiled. "Heyyyyy," he said, letting the word roll off his tongue. "Charles, this is Zayn, he's in the band, too. Zayn, Charles." </p><p>Charles leaned forward, holding out his hand. "What's up man?" </p><p>Zayn ignored him with a glare, nodding at Harry. "Haz, we're heading back to the hotel. Let's go." </p><p>Harry chuckled, letting his eyes close again as he slumped back against Charles' arm. "I literally can't move, mate. I'll catch up in a bit." </p><p>He heard Charles laugh. "Look, Zayn, I'll make sure he gets back to you guys, okay?" </p><p>Zayn scoffed. "<em>Now, </em>Haz, come on." </p><p>Harry frowned as he was suddenly yanked from his seat, stumbling forward. He flinched as Zayn's grip tightened around his arm. "Owwww, what gives?" he complained, even though it didn't really hurt.</p><p>"Come on, Harry," Zayn answered through his teeth.</p><p>Harry turned back to Charles, who was watching them in confusion. "Harry, you good, bro?" he asked, standing. </p><p>"He's fine," Zayn rolled his eyes. </p><p>"I wasn't asking you," Charles retorted. </p><p>"'M good," Harry slurred, shrugging Zayn's hand off. He stretched his out to Charles. "Good to meet you, mate. Hope I'll see you around." </p><p>Charles eyed Zayn for a second before nodding, shaking Harry's hand. "Yeah, man. Thanks for looking out for me tonight."</p><p>"No problem," Harry nodded and stumbled as Zayn tugged on his arm again. "Okay, okay, I'm coming," he muttered. </p><p>He followed Zayn outside, and shivered, realizing he'd left his jacket back at the venue. He looked around for the other guys. "Where is everyone?"</p><p>"They're still in the club," Zayn said and Harry frowned as one of their cars pulled up. "You're too wasted, I'm taking you back to the hotel." </p><p>"Wait, what?" Harry scoffed, shrugging his shoulders to get Zayn's hand off of him. "'M fine. I'm having fun." </p><p>"Not with that guy, you're not," Zayn said under his breath, and opened the door to the SUV. "Get in." </p><p>Harry glanced around at all of the people in line that were watching them and conceded, climbing into the backseat of the car. He clenched his jaw, staring out of the window until Zayn got in beside him, slamming the door closed behind them. Zayn didn't say anything and neither did Harry, suddenly sobering up. He started to shift uncomfortably, because Zayn was clearly mad at him and he hated it when people were mad at him. He started to feel guilty, but for what... he wasn't sure. </p><p>They got to the hotel and Zayn stalked quickly through the hallway to the elevator, stabbing the button angrily. Harry slumped against the railing, eyeing Zayn in confusion. "What's wrong with you?" he scoffed and Zayn just shot him an angry glare. </p><p>He followed Zayn for a while before stopping in confusion as Zayn turned left down the hallway towards his room. "I didn't invite you back," he said, but Zayn didn't say anything until they were in front of his door. </p><p>"Open the door," Zayn ordered. </p><p>Harry rolled his eyes, slipping his keycard out of his back pocket and unlocking the door. Zayn shoved it open, and grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him in. </p><p>"Zayn-" Harry sighed and was immediately muffled as Zayn pulled him into a kiss roughly, pushing him back against the door. He was weak for a moment, moaning against Zayn and kissing him back, grabbing at Zayn's waist. </p><p>Harry tilted his head away, confused as to how he'd ended up here so quickly. "Hang on," he sighed, trying to nudge Zayn back. </p><p>"I don't want to talk, Haz," Zayn muttered, pushing his hands up Harry's shirt. </p><p>"Too bad," Harry snapped, pushing Zayn off of him. </p><p>Zayn rolled his eyes, wiping at his mouth. "Okay, what?" </p><p>"What do you mean, 'what'?" Harry scoffed. "You dragged me out of that club for no reason, Zayn. I was fine, and I was having fun." </p><p>"You weren't fine," Zayn argued. "That guy was all over you and you weren't doing anything to stop him." </p><p>"Charles? Are you fucking kidding me?" Harry rolled his eyes. "What did you think was happening? He's just someone I met." </p><p>"He was making a move on you," Zayn snapped. </p><p>Harry stared at him for a second and scoffed. "You mean to tell me you made me leave a party just because you were fucking jealous?" </p><p>Zayn frowned. "I wasn't..." he faltered, swallowing. "That isn't what happened. He was being a creep." </p><p>"He was not," Harry protested. "He was hanging out with us all night and he was everyone's wingman, including mine," he said. </p><p>"Please, you just weren't seeing what I was seeing," Zayn shook his head. "And you weren't helping either, fucking staring at him all night." </p><p>"I..." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "He was nice to look at, but that doesn't mean I wanted to sleep with him," he said defensively as Zayn rolled his eyes. "Hang on, you were the one with your girlfriend all night. What do you care who I was hanging out with?" </p><p>Zayn shrugged irritably. "I was just trying to look out for you." </p><p>"Yeah, right," Harry muttered. "Where does she think you are right now?" </p><p>Zayn squinted at him. "What is that supposed to mean?" </p><p>"It means that you don't get to be mad at me for wanting someone else," Harry muttered. </p><p>"So you did want him?" </p><p>Harry rolled his eyes. "Fuck, Zayn, <em>no. </em>I told you, he's just someone I met. I was trying to help him out because he seemed... lost, how like we used to be at big parties, remember? Liam and Niall were hanging out with him, too." </p><p>Zayn sighed. "Look, I just... saw him with his arm around you and I got worried, okay?" </p><p>Harry scoffed. "Worried for me or worried for you?" </p><p>Zayn frowned. "I-" </p><p>"Why is that something you need to be worried about?" Harry interrupted him. </p><p>"You told me you wouldn't look at guys," Zayn muttered. </p><p>"That's the reason?" Harry scoffed. </p><p>"No, it's just... <em>because,</em>" Zayn hesitantly, glancing away. "Because of... you and me, yeah?" </p><p>Harry covered his face with his hands for a second, shaking his head. He was so, so fucking tired of fighting with Zayn, but his anger was building and he didn't know where the fuck Zayn was getting the idea that any of this was fair. "I'm not yours," he mumbled into his hands. </p><p>"What?" </p><p>"I am not <em>YOURS!</em>" Harry's voice boomed around the room and he barely recognized it. Zayn took a step back from him in surprise. "Not when she's going to be waking up in your bed tomorrow morning instead of me," he snapped. "You know how you felt seeing his arm around me? You don't think that's how I feel every single day she's here? You don't think it hurts me to see that ring? I have to watch you with her all the time, so that means I don't fucking <em>belong </em>to you." </p><p>Zayn stared at him in bewilderment, breathing hard. Harry ran out of steam, looking down at the floor so he could keep himself from crying. "Except I <em>do</em>," he said in a quieter voice, which he wished wouldn't tremble. "I <em>am </em>yours. I feel like a piece of shit for even entertaining that guy because of you. I would never have done anything with him, even if he had actually wanted to, because of you, even though we're technically... nothing. Every single time you have ever wanted me, I have always come, even when... whatever," he sighed and shook his head. "Fuck it. Never mind." </p><p>Zayn eyed him for a second and walked over slowly, hesitantly putting a hand on Harry's arm. Harry couldn't look at him. eyes glued to his shoes. "You're shaking," Zayn whispered, and wrapped his arms over Harry's shoulders, hugging him close. Harry submitted, sliding his hands over Zayn's waist. "Babe, we are not <em>nothing,</em>" Zayn insisted quietly. </p><p>"I'm tired of feeling like this," Harry sighed.</p><p>"Harry," Zayn murmured, pressing a kiss against his cheek. His phone started ringing and he sighed, fishing it out of his pocket. "Fuck," he said under his breath, and Harry knew that that meant. </p><p>"Just go," Harry muttered, nudging Zayn off of him. </p><p>"Hang on," Zayn sighed. "Are you okay?" </p><p>"No," Harry scoffed. "But that doesn't matter to her, does it? Cause you're hers." Zayn started to say something but he was cut off by another call. "Just go, Zayn, for fuck's sake. Don't make me watch you pretend to think about who to choose because we both know it won't be me." </p><p>Zayn stared at him in confusion. "Haz-" </p><p>"What?" Harry snapped. "What else is there to say?" </p><p>Zayn shook his head and stormed past him, slamming the door behind him. Harry collapsed onto his bed, realizing that his head was spinning way more than he thought. He let the tears come out then, covering his eyes in the crook of his elbow. </p><p>
  <em>Fuck fuck fuck. </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The one when Zayn puts it all on the line</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>end of summer 2013</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Harry </strong>
</p><p>Harry picked up his phone as it went off, expecting it to be from Caroline, who was dressing them all for the movie premiere that night. He tossed it away when he was it was a notification from Paige. He glanced down at his hand, twisting her ring that had taken place on one of his fingers. He liked Paige; she was fun and down-to-earth and they'd had a great few dates together. But he didn't like her friends, who tried to sneak pictures of him and sell them and if he was being really honest with himself, he only traded rings with her because he wanted Zayn to see him wearing it. <em>Since we're being so cavalier about rings now, </em>he thought to himself and then sighed, realizing how petty it all was. </p><p>His phone beeped and he unlocked it, checking the message from Caroline. She was finally ready for him. He sat up with a sigh, looking for his shoes. </p><p>Before he could, his phone went off again. It was Zayn this time. </p><p>
  <em>Can I come over quick Haz? Please?</em>
</p><p>Harry sighed, anxiously pushing a hand through his hair. He'd been avoiding Zayn as much as he could, especially in one-on-one situations. It'd been a few weeks since he and Zayn had fought that night after the club, and they'd barely talked since, though it wasn't as if Zayn hadn't tried. He'd been texting him almost every night and pulling him to the side during shows, trying to win him over. The only time Zayn could always break him was on stage, pulling him close to whisper in his ear or playing off of Harry's adrenaline, getting him excited and then moving so close Harry could feel his breath. Being at odds with Zayn was starting to wear on him. He was aching for it to go back to the way it used to be... but it was just too different now. He couldn't see why Zayn didn't understand that. </p><p>He got up to unlock his door reluctantly before falling back against his bed, holding his phone up in the air. </p><p>
  <em>I'm in 513. </em>
</p><p>Zayn walked into his room not even a minute later, closing the door behind him. Harry sat up with effort. "Hey. What's up?" </p><p>"Can we talk for a second? I know I'm not your favorite person right now," Zayn sighed, moving to lean against the dresser in front of Harry. </p><p>"It's fine," Harry shrugged. "Everything good?" </p><p>Zayn sighed. "Uh, no. Not really." </p><p>"What happened?" </p><p>Zayn tried to say something, but nothing came out. He had a deep frown set on his face. Harry leaned in. "Zayn?" </p><p>"I'm... trying to work out what to say," Zayn sighed. </p><p>Harry sighed in exasperation. "I'm supposed to be with Caroline right now, I don't really have time-" </p><p>"Just give me a second, will you?" Zayn insisted, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Nothing... <em>happened, </em>I just miss you," he sighed. "I miss how things used to be, yeah? <em>Being </em>with you," he said carefully. </p><p>Harry looked down at his feet. "Zayn." </p><p>"Things don't have to be so different," Zayn insisted, moving closer. "I'm telling you, nothing has changed. We're still us. She doesn't change that." </p><p><em>Yes, she does. </em>Harry set his jaw. "It doesn't matter, anyway. We're still friends." </p><p>"It's not the same," Zayn argued back. "You know it's not. You barely talk to me these days." </p><p>"What do you expect?" Harry argued back. "I treat you the same as everyone else." </p><p>"No, you don't," Zayn scoffed. "Besides that, I don't want to be like the rest of them," he said and shifted. He scratched at his eyebrow, looking down at his feet. "We're not just friends anymore, Haz, you know?" </p><p>Harry wavered slightly at that, his heart pounding. That was the first time Zayn had ever said something so direct to him about this thing that they had. He bit the inside of his cheek. "I know." </p><p>"Don't let me go yet," Zayn said bravely. </p><p>"What do you want from me?" Harry shook his head. "I meant what I said before, that I'm tired. I'm trying to move past it, but you're not making it easy on me." </p><p>"I'm saying, don't move past it. Let me be with you," Zayn insisted, standing over him. Harry didn't have it in him to push Zayn away. </p><p>"You're still engaged," Harry muttered. </p><p>"I don't want to marry her," Zayn said and Harry raised an eyebrow. "It's... what she wants and what everyone else wants but that doesn't make it real or serious. I don't see myself with her, Haz, I'm being honest." </p><p>"I don't know what you want me to say to that," Harry shrugged. </p><p>"Just think about it," Zayn said, putting his hands over Harry's shoulders. Harry looked up at him finally. "Seriously, I want things to be better between you and me." Harry sighed and felt weak when Zayn lightly stroked his cheek. "Babe, it's never been about them, yeah? You and me have always been you and me... separate from everyone else." </p><p>Harry bit the inside of his cheek, glancing up. He took a real look at Zayn then, who had deep circles under his eyes. He couldn't help but lift his hand, touching Zayn's belly gently, inviting him in. Zayn let out a breath, taking a step closer. "You okay?" Harry asked quietly. </p><p>Zayn leaned over him, resting his forehead on top of Harry's. He took a deep breath. "I'm tired," he murmured. "And I miss you." </p><p>Harry circled his arms around Zayn's waist, resting against his chest. He closed his eyes. "Me too." </p><p>"Which part?" Zayn asked quietly. </p><p>"Both," Harry answered honestly. </p><p>Zayn took another deep breath, pressing a kiss into Harry's hair. Harry felt himself getting weak, wishing Zayn would just kiss him. It'd been too long. "Would you just stay here with me for a few minutes?" Zayn asked him quietly. "Just like this?" </p><p>"Mm," Harry sighed his agreement, and they did stay like that for a while, just breathing. Harry felt his stress melting away with every inhale, every time Zayn held him a little tighter. He stroked a hand up and down Zayn's back, feeling relief at being able to touch him like this. </p><p>"Harry," Zayn whispered, lips against his temple. "If I could've given you that ring..." Harry closed his eyes.</p><p>There was a loud knock on the door, but Zayn didn't even flinch. "Harry! Let's get a move on!" It was Paul. </p><p>Harry bit his lip and moved his hands down to Zayn's hips, moving him back so that he could stand. "I gotta go." </p><p>"Haz," Zayn moved his hands down Harry's arms, fingers circling his wrists to keep them in place. "Think about it?" </p><p>Harry nodded. "Yeah, I will." </p><p>"Will you at least look at me while we're on the carpet tonight?" Zayn sighed. </p><p>Harry felt a little guilty at that. "Yeah, course I will," he murmured, turning his wrists over so that he could hold Zayn's hands in his. "Look, um... come hang out with me and Caroline while she gets me ready. We can practice what we're going to say tonight together." </p><p>Zayn smiled at him, looking a little relieved. He squeezed Harry's hands. "Yeah? You sure?"</p><p>Harry smiled too, rolling his eyes. "Come on," he chuckled and Zayn grinned at him, following him out. </p><p>He and Zayn prepped for an hour while Caroline and Lou worked on his suit and hair, and they had worked out exactly what they were going to say. Having a plan always made Zayn feel less anxious before big events, and Harry would never admit it, but he liked feeling useful to Zayn. It was the most fun they'd had with each other in a month. </p><p>That is, until Perrie came in to put on the dress that Caroline had spent the weekend shopping for. Harry had excused himself, looking down at the floor so that he didn't have to make eye contact with Zayn as he walked out. He clung to Niall when they stepped onto the carpet for pictures, even though he knew he'd have to face Zayn again while they did interviews. He watched from a distance as the paparazzi leaped to their feet when Zayn and Perrie hit the carpet, all smiles and holding onto each other. </p><p>He looked down at his feet when Zayn approached him to start interviews, and glanced up when Zayn elbowed him lightly. "This'll be fun, right?" he said and Harry heard a hint of stress in his voice. "You and me?" </p><p>Harry put on a smile, reaching over to squeeze Zayn's arm. "Yeah. We'll be good." </p><p>Zayn nodded, taking a deep breath. "Good." </p><p>*****</p><p>"Hazza," Louis clapped him on the back and Harry turned to him. "How you doin mate?" </p><p>Harry forced a smile, drying off his hands. He'd excused himself after their last round of interviews, escaping to the toilets for a moment to himself. Zayn had been trying to apologize to him under his breath since one of the reporters had asked him about "when he was going to settle down" because "Zayn has decided too." He just needed one minute to himself, one minute when he didn't have to think about Zayn's stupid engagement. </p><p>"I'm good, bro," Harry said. "How are the interviews going for you guys?" Louis had been put together with Liam and Niall for press, because he was the only one out of the three that would give a solid answer. </p><p>"Not too bad. It's just exhausting," Louis sighed, messing with his hair in the mirror. "I'm glad you're good, cause Zayn looks like he's about to jump off the nearest bridge." </p><p>Harry glanced up. "What?" </p><p>"He's not having a good time," Louis gossiped. "Perrie is pissing him off, I think. And his mum said something snarky to her. I kept checking in on him earlier and he just keep rolling his eyes at her. I don't know, something is going on with them. I figured he mentioned something to you." </p><p>Harry shook his head. He'd been trying so hard not to care how Zayn was feeling about Perrie. "Uh, no. Didn't come up." </p><p>"It's like she doesn't know the whole thing is for show," Louis chuckled, and Harry shifted around uncomfortably, eyeing the door. "Obviously Zayn loves her, but doesn't want to marry her, as far as I know. Chris was fucking pushing the idea at him for weeks, like they were to me." Harry frowned; that was the first he'd heard of that. "He caved, but it's like she doesn't realize that it's not a coincidence that we're announcing right before the movie." </p><p>Harry shrugged. "Seemed real to me." </p><p>"Are you kidding?" Louis scoffed, shaking his head. "No way he's ready for that. Maybe in a year or two it'll be real." </p><p>Harry sighed. "Maybe." </p><p>Louis eyed him. "I just figured he told you all this stuff." </p><p>Harry swallowed guiltily. <em>He would have, before. </em>He shook his head. "Nope. See you out there," he sighed. </p><p>His first instinct was to find Zayn, see if he could get him alone and make sure that he was okay. Maybe kiss him and reassure him that they'd be alright, that they'd figure something out the way they always did. He pushed that thought away irritably, leaning into his second instinct to find the nearest drink instead. </p><p>*****</p><p>
  <strong>Niall </strong>
</p><p>"Oh, for fuck's sake, Harry." </p><p>Niall shoved Harry into a standing position, and Harry tumbled back against the wall, slamming his shoulder in it. "Ow," he complained, tripping over his own feet. </p><p>Niall had been watching Harry all night at their afterparty, worried about all of these hots he'd watched the curly haired boy take. He'd seemed miserable after the red carpet, ignoring all of them and clinging to Lou and Tom, who had left the party far earlier to relieve Lux's babysitter and left Harry to his own devices. Niall pretended not to notice that Harry had been glaring daggers at Perrie and Zayn all night, hoping that there was a another reason Harry had been drowning himself in tequila for the past month. </p><p>"Mate, we gotta get you into bed," Niall sighed, helping Harry into his room, who had an arm slung over Niall's shoulders. "Drink some water. And honestly, it might not be a bad idea if you make yourself throw up," he said and Harry made a face. "You're going to be mad hungover tomorrow, and we have to be in the studio before noon." </p><p>Harry sighed. "Fucking Zayn," he muttered. </p><p>Niall frowned and took Harry's arm off of his shoulders, pushing him onto the couch beside the TV. "What about him?" </p><p>"He's getting married," Harry said miserably and Niall paused. "He's choosing her." </p><p>Niall patted him on the shoulder and grabbed a water bottle off of the TV stand. "Let's get some water in you, mate." </p><p>"He keeps telling me it shouldn't matter, that nothing has to change," Harry rambled, voice slurring. "But I can't be with him if he's fucking married. Right?" </p><p>Niall sighed and sat down. "Right," he nodded. </p><p>Harry shook his head. "He says that's not even what he wants. But I don't see why he needs me if he loves her enough to marry her. I don't see why he can't just let me go, cause I'm not strong enough to turn him away when he comes to me. I wish I was, but I'm just..." he sighed heavily. "I'm just fucking not." </p><p>Niall thought that over for a moment. "Maybe he's not strong enough to stay away either," he suggested, even though he was fairly sure Harry wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning. </p><p>"Then he shouldn't have given her a fucking ring," Harry snapped and got up suddenly. </p><p>Niall stood, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You need to sleep this off, mate," he said. "Come on, it's not going to help any to be pissed about this now." Harry muttered his reluctant agreement, collapsing onto his bed and pulling out his phone. "You good?" </p><p>"Yeah," Harry sighed, blindly reaching out his hand. Niall smirked, slapping it. "Thanks, bro." </p><p>"You're welcome," he chuckled, walking towards the door. He paused with his hand on the handle, feeling bad for Harry, and turned back around. "Look, man, for what it's worth... Zayn's been staring at you all night," he said and Harry lifted his head. "Might be worth your time to just talk to him about it." </p><p>"Okay," Harry said, clearly getting lost again in his own thoughts as he stared up at the ceiling. "Thanks." </p><p>"See you tomorrow, buddy." </p><p>*****</p><p>
  <em>one night later</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Zayn </strong>
</p><p>Zayn flipped his package of pre-rolled joints over in his hands, eyeing it. He was trying to talk himself out of having another, even though he knew it was a pretty futile effort. He was beyond wired; fighting with Harry worked him into that state, apparently. They'd had some good moments on the red carpet yesterday, but it didn't help that every five seconds someone congratulated him about his future nuptials in front of Harry. Harry didn't seem mad necessarily, but then again, Harry never <em>seemed </em>mad. He was so irritatingly hard to read these days. </p><p>Perrie had gone back to London a day early at his insistence that he would be too busy to take her house-hunting with him like he'd originally promised. She'd seemed a little annoyed, but he couldn't honestly be bothered with how she was feeling. He'd given her exactly what she wanted. And she had no idea what it cost him in return. </p><p>There was a soft knock at the door and he frowned at it. It was almost midnight and as far as he knew, the other boys were either with friends or family. He sighed and lazily got to his feet. </p><p>He completely froze when he opened the door. "Harry," he sucked in his breath in surprise. </p><p>Harry gave him a small smile back, looking slightly nervous with his hands folded behind his back. "Hey. You have a second?" he asked, and his hand came around to reveal a box of Higgs. </p><p>Zayn grinned in relief. "Yeah, come in," he said and closed the door behind Harry. </p><p>Harry glanced over the grinder and papers scattered over the table and Zayn cleared his throat. Harry smirked at him. "So, I have some catching up to do, then," he said, sitting down on the couch and propping his feet up. </p><p>Zayn smiled as Harry pulled the joints out and he lifted the lighter up, flicking it on as Harry put one between his teeth. Harry's eyes met his over the flame and Zayn felt chills prick down his spine.</p><p>He continued to smoke, relaxing slightly in Harry's presence. They were quiet for a minute or two, but Zayn didn't mind it. He was just glad that for whatever reason, in this particular moment, Harry didn't hate him enough to avoid him completely. </p><p>Harry tilted his head back to let the smoke curl out of his mouth and Zayn tried to pretend like his hands weren't itching to reach out and touch him. He imagined reaching forward, tilting Harry's face towards his and slipping on top of his lap, kissing him senseless.</p><p>He always loved watching Harry smoke, even though Harry seemed passive about the actual act. He only did it because Zayn liked him to. Harry was so fucking <em>pretty </em>when he was high; when his eyes were low and heavy, and his cheeks were pink, and he thought everything was funny. It made him lazy and slow, especially when he couldn't stop kissing Zayn and whispering, "<em>you</em> <em>taste good, baby." </em>He wondered what it meant that Harry was smoking now. </p><p>Zayn took a deep breath, maybe a little louder than intended, because Harry turned slightly. He picked his head up, his eyes a little red now. He looked more relaxed, too. "You like being in New York, don't you?" </p><p>Zayn blinked at him slowly, surprised by the question. "We're not in New York." </p><p>"I know," Harry chuckled. "I just mean... you like it better than L.A., right?" </p><p>Zayn smiled. "Yeah. I suppose so." </p><p>Harry nodded. "I think I'm an L.A. person." </p><p>Zayn smirked. "What does that even mean, Haz?" </p><p>Harry grinned, dimples peeking through. "I don't fucking know. Forget that I said it." He glanced over. "All I meant was... you don't seem happy." </p><p>Zayn sighed, leaning forward. "No?" </p><p>"Yesterday, Louis told me you were having a hard time," Harry began hesitantly. "And I felt bad, because you would have told me... before. You can still tell me now, you know?" </p><p>Zayn smiled at him. "Yeah?" </p><p>Harry put his feet down and faced Zayn. "Yeah. I still... I'll still listen." </p><p>Zayn's eyes drifted over Harry's face slowly. He scratched at his beard when he realized he was staring, glancing away. "It's a lot of things, you know? Same as everyone, I'm tired and I want a break and all of this... pretending to be happy about everything," he said carefully. "I should be, but I'm not. I spend all day trying to convince myself that I am." </p><p>"I understand that," Harry said quietly. "It's like... they never tell you that when you're a musician, acting is in the job description, too." </p><p>"Exactly," Zayn sighed. "I didn't sign up for this expecting to play a role, you know." </p><p>Harry nodded, rubbing at his eye with his knuckle. Zayn ached to take Harry's finger in his hand and kiss it. "When I broke up with Taylor, the first thing that she said to me was like... 'well, what are we going to tell the press' and 'we're scheduled to get photographed at dinner tomorrow, can we at least do that?' And I did it, but... it was so uncomfortable and awkward and fake." </p><p>Zayn raised his eyebrows. "You never told me you did that," he said curiously. </p><p>Harry shrugged. "I guess... it's a part of everything. If I had known that going in, I mean... who knows?" </p><p>"Me too," Zayn sighed. "I don't want to be anything for anyone, I just want to <em>be." </em></p><p>Harry nodded. "There are little moments, here and there, when I feel like myself," he said. "I just try and hold onto those." </p><p>Zayn inched closer. "Yeah?" </p><p>He caught Harry's eyes glance down to his lips. "A lot of those moments have been with you." </p><p>Zayn smiled, suddenly overwhelmed in relief. "Mine too, Haz." </p><p>"I'm tired of fighting with you," Harry said quietly. </p><p>Zayn eyed him sadly. "I know. Me too." </p><p>"I've been trying really hard to think</p><p>of a way to fix things," Harry said. "Maybe... maybe it's as easy as us just deciding to let it all go and forgive each other." </p><p>Zayn smiled slightly. "You want to do that?" </p><p>"Yeah," Harry nodded. "It won't... you know. It won't be like it was," he said hesitantly and Zayn bit back a disappointed sigh. "But I mean... fuck, not even being able to talk to you has been shitty." </p><p>"Agreed," Zayn sighed. He felt his entire body let go of its tension and he leaned back in his chair. He realized in that moment how much fighting with Harry had been crushing him. "Good. I just want to be able to hang out with you." </p><p>Harry smiled, shifting comfortably in his seat as he leaned back. "Me too." </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The one when they can't stop (mature)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>one week after chapter 8 (end of summer 2013) </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Zayn</strong>
</p><p>"Zayn." </p><p>Zayn looked up from his phone as Perrie prompted him with a sigh. "Sorry," he muttered, putting his phone in his back pocket with some loose cigarettes. "What were you saying?" </p><p>"I was telling Jess about the one restaurant you took me to in L.A. last week," she chuckled, tangling their fingers together. "I can't remember what kind of food it was." </p><p>"Umm... Peruvian, babe," Zayn answered, smiling at Jess before glancing away. </p><p>They were at some rich kid's university house party in London that Harry had been invited to. A lot of the party invitations they were extended came through Harry when he was invited to things by girls that were vying for his attention. Zayn couldn't be bothered to remember what this one's name was; Maggie? Melanie? Whoever she was, he had an intense urge to shove her off of the couch as he watched Harry rest his hand comfortably on her hip and she leaned back against his chest. </p><p>The thing was, being just friends with Harry was fine. They had good conversations and lots of fun with the other lads, but there was always something else behind their words, lingering in the pit of Zayn's stomach every time Harry walked away from him. Every time Harry looked at him, Zayn was aching to kiss him. He wanted Harry to want him so so badly he would grab him and push him against the wall, hungry, like he used to be. It pissed him off to feel Harry pulling farther and farther away from him. It was starting to make him feel crazy that Harry wasn't his anymore. <em>I am yours, </em>Harry's words echoed in his mind. <em>Yeah, right, </em>Zayn narrowed his eyes at Harry's fingers, which squeezed Megan/Mellie/Maggie's waist. </p><p>Perrie nudged him gently and he realized he hadn't been paying any attention to the conversation again. "What? Sorry," he said, tearing his eyes away from Harry's hand. </p><p>"Should we get you home? I don't want you to get sick," Perrie said. </p><p>"I'm not blacked out, sorry, I was just distracted," Zayn sighed. </p><p>He glanced back over as Harry got up and walked down the hall, turning the corner towards the bathroom. "I'll be right back," he murmured. Perrie just nodded and continued her conversation. </p><p>Zayn walked quickly down the hall, heart pounding in his ears. He didn't know what the fuck he was going to do, but he needed to do something, and <em>now. </em></p><p>He opened the bathroom door to see Harry standing in front of the mirror, messing with his hair. Harry turned to him in surprise. "What's up?" </p><p>Zayn shut the door behind him and twisted Harry's shirt in his hand, yanking the taller boy against him. He fell back against the door and pulled Harry's face down to crash their lips together. <em>Fuck. Finally. </em>To his relief, Harry seemed to share the feeling, moaning and kissing him back, hands sliding over Zayn's jaw. Their tongues met and Zayn felt heat rushing through every part of him that Harry touched. </p><p>Harry broke their kiss, breathing hard. "What are you doing?" he asked, only a centimeter away. </p><p>Zayn pulled him close and kissed him again. "Let's go to your place tonight," he whispered. "I need you." </p><p>Harry eyed him. "What about-" </p><p>"I'll tell her to fuck off," Zayn shook his head, stroking Harry's stomach. "Just tell me you want me to come." </p><p>Harry nodded. He pushed Zayn firmly against the door, leaning over to kiss his neck. He slid his hand over Zayn's waist and around his back, squeezing his ass and lifting it so their hips could meet. Harry lifted his shirt, running a finger over the words, <em>Don't think I won't... </em>Zayn grabbed Harry's face, kissing him until he was breathless. "I want you to come," Harry whispered and Zayn got chills. "Meet me in a half an hour." </p><p>Zayn nodded and Harry smiled, eyes sparkling. He opened the door, walking out first. Zayn peeled himself away from the door, propping himself against the sink and looking at himself in the mirror. He needed to stay in here for a few minutes, his lips looking red and bitten. His hands were shaking in anticipation, in his fucking <em>need </em>for them to be roaming Harry's body again. He took a minute to collect himself before he walked out, making a beeline for Perrie to come up with some excuse as to why he had to leave without her and she'd have to spend the night at home alone instead of with him. </p><p>He finally managed to escape the party and get a ride back to Harry's place, after a much longer argument with Perrie than he'd anticipated. His leg bounced the entire ride and he stared at his phone, waiting for a reply to: </p><p>12:03AM <em>Im on the way babe</em></p><p>His phone finally lit up. </p><p>12:16AM <em>I'm here. Waiting for you. </em></p><p>Zayn almost moaned, biting down on the inside of his cheek. The car ride to Harry's London house suddenly stretched into long hours, even though he knew in reality it was probably less than ten minutes. He bounded up the stairs to the front door, hands shaking as he pushed it open. </p><p>His racing mind suddenly slowed as he walked into the house, eyes landing on Harry who was sitting on the back of his couch. He stood the second Zayn walked in, smiling. "Hey." </p><p>"Hey," Zayn chuckled, locking the door behind him. </p><p>Harry grinned and strode forward, grabbing Zayn's face in his hands and kissing him. Zayn groaned against him, grabbing at Harry's shirt. Harry stumbled backwards, tearing it off and moving back in, kissing under Zayn's ear. Zayn lost his breath as Harry's hand slid under his collar and ripped is shirt open, buttons flying all around them. He shoved it off and Zayn stumbled back, landing against the wall. </p><p>"How do you want me, baby?" Harry asked breathlessly. </p><p>"On top," Zayn answered immediately. "Make me feel good." </p><p>Harry moaned, biting back a grin. He slid his hand down to Zayn's ass, fingers slipping into his boxers. "You sure that's what you want?" he teased. </p><p>Zayn groaned. "Fuck, Harry," he breathed, resting his forehead against Harry's. "Take me upstairs <em>now." </em></p><p>Harry took Zayn's hand in his. "Come here," he whispered, walking quickly up to his bedroom. Harry tripped over a stray tee shirt on the way, and Zayn laughed because it was all so painfully <em>Harry </em>and shot a hand out to help steady him. "Shut up," Harry snickered, kicking open the door. </p><p>He let Harry push him back against his bed and start kissing down his chest. Zayn slid his hand into Harry's curls with a groan. He was already painfully hard, because he had been craving Harry's lips and hands like a drug. He lifted his hips as Harry's fingers hooked under his boxers and dragged them down, discarding them. </p><p>He looked down and met Harry's eyes as he swallowed him, not hesitating in taking him entirely in his mouth. "Oh, fuck," Zayn gasped, gripping Harry's hair so hard it was probably painful. Harry didn't let on if it was, moving back and forth and swirling his tongue <em>everywhere. </em>Zayn would be embarrassed over the noises he was making if it was in front of anyone else, but because it was Harry, he unabashedly moaned, one hand grabbing at the sheets. He tried to keep his hips still instead of thrusting into Harry's mouth, but it felt too good. "Babe, wait," Zayn panted as a shudder went through him. Harry pulled off, lips red and swollen, and Zayn thought he could finish right then and there just from the sight. "I don't want to be done yet." </p><p>Harry crawled over him, coming up to give him a filthy kiss. Zayn reached down to stroke him, giving him something. Harry moaned against him and brought up his fingers, running them across Zayn's lip. "Make them wet," he ordered and Zayn groaned, opening his mouth as Harry pushed them in and kissed his neck. Zayn loved being in charge when they had sex; he loved when Harry was open and submissive because he was always willing to do whatever Zayn wanted, but this could be even better. Harry was never like this, never so assertive and sure of himself, so when he was, it was completely intoxicating. </p><p>Harry slipped his fingers out and kissed Zayn again as he pushed his legs apart. He guessed Harry could feel him tense up because Harry leaned over to kiss under his ear. "Trust me?" </p><p>"Yeah," Zayn sighed, taking a deep breath. </p><p>"It's been a while, so..." Harry murmured. "Just tell me if it's too much, too fast." </p><p>His breath hitched at the feeling of Harry's fingers instead of him, but Harry soothed him immediately with a kiss. It didn't take long until Harry was deep enough to brush against that spot inside him that made his toes curl and he let that feeling take over, leaning back with his eyes closed. "Fuck, your hands, Harry," Zayn moaned. "Always so perfect." </p><p>Harry took his fingers out and climbed off, laying kisses in between Zayn's thighs as he did. Zayn watched him as he got up to grab a condom out of his dresser. He could hardly believe he was finally back here, finally back with Harry in the way he always wanted to be. Maybe it'd only been a month or so since the last time they were together, but it felt like eons. Harry was just as beautiful as he remembered. When he came back over, Zayn pulled him close, kissing him for a long moment. "You okay?" Harry murmured curiously, pressing a featherlight kiss against his lips. </p><p>"Yeah," Zayn sighed. "Just... fuck, I miss this," he chuckled, brushing his nose against Harry's and kissing him gently. "You." </p><p>Harry smiled. "Me too," he said and kissed his collarbone. "Put your legs around me, baby." </p><p>Zayn grinned and wrapped his legs around Harry's waist. Harry kissed him as he pushed in and Zayn gasped into his mouth, tightening his grip on Harry's back. Harry groaned loudly. "Fuck, Zayn," he whispered, leaning over so that they were cheek to cheek. "You feel so good." </p><p>"Harry," Zayn moaned and as Harry slammed into him, putting his hand on the headboard for balance. It rocked against the wall as they moved together in sync, joining their moans and pants as the only sounds in the room. Zayn's eyes rolled back as Harry hit him <em>there </em>and he dug his nails into Harry's back. Harry's lips were somehow all over his neck and chest and it was all <em>so much and so good </em>and a familiar heat was building in his stomach- </p><p>He groaned, grabbing onto Harry's arm. "Fuck, Haz, I'm not going to last." </p><p>Harry just picked up speed, hips thrusting forward roughly against Zayn's. "Me either." He leaned down to kiss him, switching the angle to make Zayn moan. "Come," he murmured. "I want to see you come." </p><p>Zayn lost it the second Harry touched him, his back arching off of the bed. "<em>Harry</em>," he gasped, digging his nails in as his whole body shook and he was coming all over his stomach, moaning. </p><p>"Baby," Harry whispered, head falling next to Zayn's as he came with a groan. Zayn's hand flew into Harry's hair, holding him close. Three little words danced on the tip of his tongue as he felt Harry's weight on top of him. </p><p>"Kiss me," Zayn murmured instead and Harry lifted his head, pressing their lips together heatedly. They slowed down together, sharing their breath as their highs started to fade. </p><p>Harry pulled out slowly and pressed a kiss to Zayn's chest before getting up and walking over to the bathroom. He came back with a hand towel. "Here," he murmured, wiping off Zayn's stomach. </p><p>"Thanks," Zayn sighed and Harry tossed it aside, laying back down on top of him. Zayn scratched his curls, taking a deep breath. This was good. Really, really good. </p><p>*****</p><p>
  <strong>Harry</strong>
</p><p>Harry took a deep breath, squeezing Zayn's hip gently to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He was still lying on Zayn's chest, slipping in and out of sleep. He was sure the sun would have to come up soon. Zayn chuckled underneath him, carding his fingers through Harry's hair gently. "You good, babe?" </p><p>"Mm," Harry hummed, closing his eyes. "Beyond. You?" </p><p>"Same." Harry could hear the smile on Zayn's face. He pressed a kiss against Zayn's ribs, hoping to make that smile even wider. Zayn breathed out a laugh, which made Harry grin. </p><p>"I like your room," Zayn commented and it dawned on Harry that Zayn had only been to his house in London once, when everyone had come to check it out just after he bought it. </p><p>"You don't think it's a little much?" Harry sighed. </p><p>"Nah, it's good. You didn't design it though, did you?" </p><p>"No. Jeff had a designer friend and she did it. It looks good, I think, I'm just not used to being in such a big room," he admitted. </p><p>Zayn chuckled. "No, dusty attics are much more your speed." </p><p>Harry grinned. "Ben's attics isn't... <em>that </em>dusty." Zayn laughed, running a hand through his hair. </p><p>Zayn's phone started ringing. Harry propped himself up and glanced at it as Zayn picked it up and clicked the red button over top of Perrie's name and tossed it away from him. Harry eyed it hesitantly. "Is she mad you bailed on her?" </p><p>"Don't worry about it," Zayn shook his head, taking Harry's chin in his hand so that Harry would look at him again. </p><p>Harry swallowed hesitantly. "I guess if you need to go-" </p><p>"I don't, Haz," Zayn sighed. "I'm where I want to be. I need <em>you</em> right now, okay?" </p><p>"Okay," Harry soothed him, kissing his cheek and under his jaw. Zayn sighed, pushing his fingers through the hair on the back of Harry's head. Harry laid back down, settling in the crook of Zayn's neck. </p><p>"You want to hear something stupid?" Zayn murmured. "I've been missing you sleeping on top of me. And your loud ass snoring." </p><p>Harry chuckled. "I thought you hated it." </p><p>"When I can't sleep," Zayn whispered. "All I want is your hefty body crushing me and your weed wacker noises in my ear." </p><p>"Heyyyy," Harry protested. "Who are you calling hefty?" </p><p>Zayn laughed for a second before sighing. "Babe, I'm saying... I can't sleep anymore without you." </p><p>Harry tightened his grip around Zayn's waist. "Me either." </p><p>"Look at me," Zayn murmured and Harry shifted, pushing himself up. Zayn leaned up and pressed a careful, gentle kiss to his lips, eyeing him seriously for a moment. "I'm yours, too." </p><p><em>No, you're not. </em>Harry smiled at him anyway, kissing him back. "I know, baby." </p><p>Zayn seemed content as they laid together, slipping into sleep within a matter of minutes. Harry stayed awake for a while, eyeing Zayn's phone anxiously as it continued to light up. </p><p>Zayn didn't belong to him, not really. He probably never would. Harry loved being with him more than anything, which was scary, and he wished that that wasn't true. Watching Zayn with <em>her </em>made him miserable, and he couldn't ignore that the past month had been a complete rollercoaster of highs and lows. He wished he could stop overthinking it, the way Zayn seemed to. He wished that he could learn to compartmentalize his feelings, the way Zayn seemed too. But he was sure that he was deeply in love with the boy he was lying on top of, and that Zayn didn't feel the same way about him. In short... he was <em>fucked. </em></p><p>*****</p><p>
  <em>two days later</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Harry </strong>
</p><p>Harry stretched a hand out, searching for the warm body on the other side of the bed. He cracked an eye open when he found it empty and swallowed bitter disappointment, remembering the night before. </p><p>Zayn had stayed at his place for a few days, where they were spending every moment they could tangled up together in bed. The other lads had come to hang out for a bit here and there when they weren't at the hotel, and they'd all spent an afternoon house hunting with Louis. Luckily, none of them cared to ask why Zayn had crashed at Harry's house instead of at his fiancée's, who lived fifteen minutes down the road. </p><p>Around eleven last night, Harry had gotten out of the shower to find Zayn rushing around, grabbing his things and explaining hurriedly that he had to go. Apparently, he'd run out of excuses and Perrie had run out of patience. He'd slid a few apologies into his rambling, but he left after only a few minutes without kissing Harry goodbye. Zayn had left him standing in the middle of his bedroom in a towel and total confusion. </p><p>Harry glanced over at his night table and felt slightly ashamed to see the bottles of beer that were stacked on it, which he'd immediately gotten for himself after Zayn had left. He turned away from the evidence of his pity party, looking for his phone instead. He sighed when he saw that Zayn had texted him four times at three in the morning: </p><p>3:07AM <em>Hey babe.. Go look at the end of ur street. Left u something x </em></p><p>3:36AM <em>Call me when you see it </em></p><p>3:36AM <em>Miss u so much already. I wish I didnt have to leave </em></p><p>And finally: </p><p>3:43AM <em>Im sorry I didnt kiss u before I left </em></p><p>Harry frowned, sitting up and groaned when his head pounded from a hangover. He looked around half-heartedly for some trousers and shoes to pull on. When he turned out of his gate, he realized he had no idea what he was looking for. He checked his texts again, but Zayn hadn't really said what he'd 'left' and Harry rolled his eyes, squinting as he looked round for anything that looked remotely Zayn-like. </p><p>He noticed bright pink on one of the electrical boxes at the end of the street and he walked over to it. It was definitely spray-painted and... oh. Harry felt his cheeks heat up when he saw the pink spray-painted heart painted on the box. He stared at it for a little while, immediately feeling weak at the knees. </p><p>He picked up his phone, clicking on Zayn's contact. Zayn answered right away. "<em>Haz." </em></p><p>"Hey," Harry sighed. "I'm here, I'm looking at it." </p><p>Zayn sighed too. <em>"Good, good," </em>he said quietly. "<em>What do you think?" </em></p><p>Harry smiled slightly. "I think... I'm going to kiss you stupid the next chance I get." </p><p>Zayn laughed a little breathlessly. "<em>Yeah? You like it?" </em></p><p>"'Course I do," Harry chuckled. </p><p>
  <em>"Yeah?" </em>
</p><p>"Yeah." </p><p>
  <em>"Good. I, um... I can't really stay on the phone, I'm sorry-" </em>
</p><p>"Don't apologize," Harry murmured. "I'll see you soon." </p><p>"<em>See you, Haz." </em></p><p>Harry stood in front of the painted heart for a long time, unconcerned with how strange he probably looked to his neighbors. His feet eventually started to hurt and he took a picture of it, looking at it the whole walk back to his house with a smile plastered on his face. <em>He might love me after all. </em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The one with the Jonathan Ross interview</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>late 2013</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Zayn </strong>
</p>
<p>Zayn knocked on Harry's hotel room door with a sigh. "Hazza, you there?" he asked, unsure of whether to expect an answer or not. Harry hadn't answered any of his texts in the past hour. They were scheduled to go on Jonathan Ross' show in two hours, and after receiving their talking points from Chris, Harry hadn't come out of his room. </p>
<p>As far as Zayn could tell, he and Harry were on their way to getting back together. But ever since the first time they'd slept together after breaking up, Harry had become even more impossible to read. Zayn tried to spend as much time with him as he possibly could, and Harry was always happy when they were together, but he could tell it drove Harry crazy whenever Perrie was around. He'd get infuriatingly passive aggressive and ignore Zayn for days on end, until neither of them could take it anymore. Sometimes things got more difficult, as Harry got jealous and lonely and attached to random girls that drove Zayn crazy with possessiveness. The only thing he could count on was that Harry still wanted him, even when he was mad or jealous or upset. Zayn missed when it used to be easy, when he knew Harry would always choose him over everyone.  </p>
<p>The door cracked open and Harry looked at him through it with deep circles under his eyes. "Hey," he said quietly. "I'm pretty tired, Zayn." </p>
<p>"Let me in for a second?" Zayn sighed. "Come on, I just want to check in quick." </p>
<p>Harry glanced down at his feet before nodding, opening the door and letting Zayn slip in. Zayn walked through nervously, sitting down on the bed. "You good, babe?" </p>
<p>Harry followed him, lying down across the bed beside him. "Yeah, I'm alright," he murmured. "You ready for tonight?" </p>
<p>"As ready as I can be," Zayn sighed. He reached out, tangling some of his fingers with Harry's. Harry gave him a small smile, picking up Zayn's hand to kiss the back of it. "You okay? Honestly?" They'd been warned that Jonathan would spend a fair amount of air time talking to them about relationships, and Chris had spent an extra few minutes in the meeting making sure Zayn knew that Perrie would be brought up and her picture would be shown. </p>
<p>Harry gave him the barest of nods, pressing another kiss to the back of his knuckles. "Harry," Zayn prompted him. </p>
<p>"It is what it is, I guess," he sighed and leaned over, hooking his arm under Zayn's legs that were hanging over the side of the bed. He lifted them up, spinning Zayn onto the bed to lie next to him. Zayn laughed, letting Harry haul him close. He pushed his hands into Harry's hair, kissing his cheek. Harry slid his hand down, bringing one of Zayn's legs up to wrap around his hips. </p>
<p>"Babe," Zayn chuckled. "I'm trying here." </p>
<p>Harry sighed and tightened his grip. "I know. Listen um...," he began hesitantly and Zayn propped himself up on his elbow. "Chris pulled me aside and told me Jonathan's gonna bring up all the girls I've been seen around with," he murmured and Zayn glanced away, clenching his jaw. "You know I don't care about them like I care about you, right?" </p>
<p>Zayn sighed and nodded. "Yeah. You okay that they're going to be talking about you like that?" he asked quietly. "Like you're some kind of player?" Harry shrugged. "I'm sorry." </p>
<p>"It... it is how it always is," Harry shook his head, sounding exasperated. "They want me to be a player, whatever. I know I'm not that guy." </p>
<p>"You're not," Zayn insisted. "None of us are like that, but especially not you." </p>
<p>"Remind me again why we aren't sitting together on a beach in Jamaica right now?" Harry murmured and Zayn grinned, leaning over to press a kiss into Harry's hair. </p>
<p>"Because we're surrounded by sadists?" Zayn joked and Harry finally laughed, which made Zayn happy. <em>This interview is going to be hell</em>. "Babe, spend the night with me, yeah? I'm gonna need to be with you after all this shit." </p>
<p>"'Course," Harry nodded. "I'd love that." </p>
<p>"Good," Zayn sighed, feeling slightly reassured. "It's just an hour or two. We'll get through it." </p>
<p>"We will," Harry nodded, and leaned up to kiss him. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <strong>Harry </strong>
</p>
<p>Harry checked his phone as he got out of the shower, hoping for an update about the food he'd ordered to their hotel. He'd found a little Salvadorian place that delivered and ordered everything on the menu that he thought Zayn would like. The interview had been brutal on both of them, as expected. To his credit, Zayn had been touching Harry's shoulder secretly behind the camera every time he had to say something about Perrie, and it did make him feel a little bit better. In return, Harry had done his best to downplay his relationships with all the women that Jonathan threw at him. Neither of them seemed to feel very good about it anyway. To top it all off, Lou had brought one of her friends to the show who clearly only had interest in coming to meet him. He'd done his best to make her feel special for Lou's benefit, but mostly it was exhausting to fend off her constant invitations for a hook up. </p>
<p>Besides a text from Paul saying that his food had come, he realized he'd missed a bunch of texts from Zayn and he sighed. It was never good when Zayn texted him more than once. </p>
<p>1:12 AM <em>Come over x </em></p>
<p>1:27AM <em>Where are u? </em></p>
<p>1:39AM <em>I need u </em></p>
<p>1:40AM <em>Haz where are u? </em></p>
<p>"Shit," Harry muttered, writing back to him. </p>
<p>1:43AM <em>Sorry. I have a good reason to be late, trust me. On my way. </em></p>
<p>He waited until Paul dropped off the take out and walked over to Zayn's room, knocking on the door. "Zayn? It's me." </p>
<p>The door swung open and although Zayn smiled at him, Harry could instantly tell something was wrong. "Hey, come in," Zayn sighed. His body looked tightly wound, like he was stressed or anxious. Harry closed the door gently behind them, eyeing him with concern. </p>
<p>"You doing alright?" Harry asked and Zayn nodded, clearly lost in his own thought. "I brought us some take-out," he said and Zayn turned around as Harry put it on the table. "I just got us one of everything basically." </p>
<p>Zayn smiled, sitting in front of him on the edge of the bed. "How'd you know that's exactly what I needed?" he said, bumping Harry's foot with his toes.</p>
<p>"Sorry I'm late, it took a little while for the food to get here," Harry said, taking some of it out of the bags. "Told you I had a good reason, though." </p>
<p>Zayn glanced down at his feet, looking irked. "Had me worried for a second that you were going to bail." </p>
<p>Harry paused. "No, I wouldn't have." </p>
<p>"Saw you talking to that girl for a while after the interview," Zayn said with a set jaw, avoiding his eyes. </p>
<p>Harry frowned. "You mean, Lou's friend? I was just doing Lou a favor, she asked me to hang with her a bit." </p>
<p>"You didn't like her then?" Zayn muttered and Harry scoffed. "Don't laugh at me, Harry." </p>
<p>"I'm sorry," Harry shook his head. "No, I didn't like her. I was mostly just trying to think of a way to politely get out of the conversation." </p>
<p>Zayn took a deep breath. "Could've fooled me." </p>
<p>Harry bit back an irritated sigh and stood in front of Zayn. "What's really wrong?" he murmured. </p>
<p>Zayn sighed, relenting. "I feel... shitty." </p>
<p>Harry touched his cheek and Zayn leaned into his hand. "Want to talk about it?" </p>
<p>Zayn shook his head, tugging on Harry's shirt to bring him closer. "No. I just want you." </p>
<p>"Baby," Harry chuckled, and Zayn stood up, sliding his hands around Harry's waist to pull him in. "Tell me." </p>
<p>Zayn pressed a kiss against Harry's throat. "Can't we skip that part and get to the part where you make me feel better by fucking me senseless?" </p>
<p>Harry grinned. "Tell. Me."</p>
<p>"You're no fun," Zayn muttered and then sighed. "You think I'm a bad guy?" he asked quietly. </p>
<p>Harry immediately felt defensive. "No. Fuck no. Who said you were a bad guy? I'll kill him." </p>
<p>"No one, babe," Zayn chuckled dryly. "The interview kind of fucked with my head is all." </p>
<p>"It's all bullshit, remember," Harry murmured. "All the interviews. You know that." </p>
<p>"Yeah," Zayn nodded half-heartedly. </p>
<p>"You're good," Harry insisted, shaking his head. "You're so good, you don't even know." </p>
<p>Zayn deflected and slipped one of his hands up the back of Harry's shirt. "I don't want to talk about this," he whispered. "Take your clothes off." </p>
<p>Harry did his best to take care of Zayn for the rest of the night, tiptoeing around what he should and shouldn't say. Something was obviously wrong, but he wasn't sure if it was something he'd personally done or said during the interview. He tried to make Zayn feel loved, as much as he could without having to say the words. When they had sex, Zayn rode him and repeated over and over again, "<em>you're mine, you're mine, you're mine." </em></p>
<p>He watched Zayn as he smoked on the balcony after they slept together, pacing back and forth and trying to work up an appetite. When he walked back in, Harry offered him a smile and Zayn sighed, slipping back into bed beside him. "You know... you're the only thing that makes me any fucking sense to me right now?" Zayn murmured. </p>
<p>Harry's heart pounded in his chest. "Really?" </p>
<p>"You want to help me feel better? I need you to promise me something," Zayn murmured. </p>
<p>Harry swallowed. "Okay." </p>
<p>"I don't ever want to be without you," Zayn said in a clear voice. "Promise me... even if you're mad at me or whatever... you're not going to bail on me," he said and Harry hesitated. Zayn inched closer, running his thumb over Harry's lips. "Babe, promise me. Please." </p>
<p>Harry nodded. He wasn't sure how realistic it was to promise Zayn that, but it was what he needed to hear. He wanted Zayn to feel better, and he wished it could be that simple. But in a way, it might be the truth. He would probably always show up whenever Zayn called, no matter what. "I promise." </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The one when Zayn writes a song</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>mid 2014: before tour</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Zayn </strong>
</p>
<p>Zayn's hand hovered hesitantly over the buzzer to Harry's gate and he sighed, letting it fall. He hadn't texted Harry to let him know he was here, and he was starting to wonder if it was a little mean to just spring on him like this. He didn't even know if Harry would be happy to see him- it'd been a few weeks since they last spoke and it had ended in an argument. Harry had drunkenly requested that Zayn leave Perrie, and gotten upset when Zayn tried to explain to him that that wasn't an option. </p>
<p>He had gotten a taste of his own medicine recently while Harry had been spending time in L.A. before tour started. Dozens of articles flooded the media every time he was spotted with Kendall, which was way more since the press tour ended and all of the boys had gone their separate ways for a few weeks to write. He knew he wasn't technically allowed to feel jealous about it, but that sure as fuck didn't stop him. He understood pretty well now how Harry had been feeling since the summer. </p>
<p>He, alongside the other boys, had mostly been spending time in the U.K., with his family and Perrie's. But there was a producer that he'd met during press in Europe that had invited him to come write and record in L.A. for a few weeks. He decided to do it, even though he was hesitant to try and see Harry. Zayn was worried that Harry would push him away now that he was spending so much time with Kendall, despite what he'd promised months ago. Harry had kept that promise since then; even when he was upset or angry, he was still there when Zayn needed him. </p>
<p>As much as he'd enjoyed being home with his family, he couldn't shake the feelings of anxiety and unrest that had been plaguing him for the past two years. He'd hoped that when he finally got the chance to settle down at home for a while that it would recharge him and he would start to feel normal, but it wasn't workin. He found himself awake during all hours of the night, staring at his phone and wishing that he could find the courage to call Harry or that Harry would call him. It was beyond frustrating. He could have almost everything he wanted in the world, except for the one thing he wanted more than any of it; to be in bed with a curly haired English boy. </p>
<p>He hadn't realized before the way being with Harry really kept him sane. Before their fight, every time he'd felt nervous, sick or stressed, he could call Harry, who was often already on his way over. Though Zayn had been trying to convince himself for months that their relationship was just for fun, he knew he was lying. Zayn missed Harry like an organ in his body when they weren't together; that was way more serious than "just for fun." </p>
<p>He'd gotten too L.A. about a week ago, unsure about whether or not to reach out to Harry. He hated that he didn't even know if Harry was still in L.A. or if he was home. He'd spent most of his time with the producer, and it was going really well. But Zayn had something to get off of his chest, which was blocking his mind for other work. He'd spent a few hours writing, let the producer mix a rough version of it, and waited. He waited until he heard through Liam that Harry was only going to be in L.A. for a few more days and he couldn't wait anymore. He was about to run out of time. </p>
<p>He'd arrived at Harry's gate around nine, and had spent ten minutes sitting in his car in front of it. Harry had given him a code to the gate last year to use when he wanted to, but he didn't feel right using it this time. He took a deep breath, pressing the buzzer. </p>
<p>Harry's cheerful voice came over the intercom. "<em>Talk to me." </em></p>
<p>Zayn sighed. "Uhhh... Haz, it's me." </p>
<p>There was a second of silence. "<em>Zayn?" </em></p>
<p>"Yeah." </p>
<p>"<em>Um... one second." </em></p>
<p>The gate opened and he let out a sigh of relief, driving through. He drove up to the front of the house, parked where he usually did and walked up to the door. Harry opened it before he had a chance to knock. </p>
<p>Zayn took Harry in for a second, eyes traveling over him. Somehow, every single time Zayn saw Harry, he looked even more gorgeous than the last. His hair was longer, tied back in a bandana. He looked a little bigger; a little stronger and... taller? Zayn wondered how it was possible that Harry was still growing. Harry locked eyes with him and he was suddenly overwhelmed in green. </p>
<p>"What's going on?" Harry prompted him. </p>
<p>Zayn cracked a hesitant smile at him. "Can I come in?" </p>
<p>Harry bit the corner of his lip before smiling slightly, opening the door wider. "Yeah, alright." </p>
<p>"Anyone here?" Zayn asked, walking into the living room. Scraps of paper and notebooks lying open with half-filled pages were strewn across the coffee table. </p>
<p>Harry shook his head. "You just missed everyone, actually," he sighed, sitting on the couch. "Ed and Jordan left like fifteen minutes ago." He looked over at Zayn in confusion. "You want to sit, or...?" </p>
<p>"Yeah, sorry," Zayn flushed slightly, sitting across from him. He glanced over Harry's notes. "Working hard?" </p>
<p>Harry shrugged, glancing away. "I guess. I'm just trying to get a lot of stuff out on paper. I think I'll give a few songs away, maybe, but I'll definitely keep some for the album." </p>
<p>Zayn raised his eyebrows. "Gave a few away?" </p>
<p>Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Some may not have been entirely... appropriate for our album." Zayn smiled at him, which was obviously not the reaction that Harry was expecting. He broke into a half-smile. "What are you doing here? I thought you were home." </p>
<p>Zayn cleared his throat. "I'm here to write for another week or so. Liam told me you would here for a few more days and I wanted to see you before you left." </p>
<p>Harry raised his eyebrows. "Yeah?" </p>
<p>Zayn pulled out his phone. "Speaking of music that's inappropriate for the album," he sighed, opening the link in his email. He stood, moving to sit closer to Harry. He set his phone down on the table in front of him. Harry eyed him. "Listen to it. If you want." </p>
<p>Harry smiled curiously at him and leaned over, pressing the link. The music started playing and Zayn suddenly started to feel ridiculously insecure. One of Harry's most attractive qualities was the way he really listened to things. He kept his eyes on the phone, and Zayn noticed a slight quiver in his hands start the more he listened. </p>
<p>"<em>We messed around until we found the one thing we said we could never, ever... live without, I'm not allowed to talk about it, but I gotta tell ya... cause we are who we are when no one's watching... and right from the start you know I got you... I won't mind... even though I know you'll never be mine..." </em></p>
<p>The song ended and Zayn's heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his ears. Harry didn't move move a muscle, except to glance away at his hands. Zayn leaned in, trying to catch his eye. "Did you like it?"</p>
<p>Harry was pointedly avoiding his gaze, wringing his hands together. "It's uh... it's really good," he answered, his voice suddenly hoarse. "Beautiful, even. It's not for the album?" </p>
<p>"No," Zayn murmured. He put one hand over Harry's to still them. "It's for you."</p>
<p>Harry's eyes slowly lifted. "It is?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>Harry eyed him intensely, clearly thinking hard. Zayn leaned in close, taking hold of Harry's face in his hand. "I miss you," he whispered. </p>
<p>Harry sighed and leaned forward, locking his lips onto Zayn's. He pulled hungrily to get Zayn on top of him, pushing his hands up Zayn's shirt. Zayn followed his lead with no hesitation, aching to feel him. </p>
<p>When he pulled Harry's shirt off, something caught his eye. He looked at Harry's hips that were now adorned with two laurel leaves... which covered the writing that Zayn had left there two years ago. He paused, sitting back over Harry's lap. </p>
<p>Harry leaned up to kiss him. "What's wrong?" </p>
<p>Zayn kissed him back gently. "You covered your tattoo," he murmured. </p>
<p>Harry paused and rubbed Zayn's thighs reassuringly. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I just... I got upset and impulsively covered it but... it still means something to me. I promise, baby." </p>
<p>Zayn ran his fingers over the laurels. "These look good on you, too." </p>
<p>"Thanks," Harry sighed. "I wish I hadn't done it, but... it's too late now." </p>
<p>Zayn shrugged it off. "It's okay, I get it," he whispered and kissed him again. It was the truth; he really did understand. He'd been afraid to call, which made him act shitty, and Harry had every right. </p>
<p>"Come upstairs," Harry murmured into his neck and Zayn nodded, following Harry up to his room. It felt like every other time, but so much better, somehow. <em>Life-giving. </em></p>
<p>Zayn laid closely next to him after, as they both tried to catch their breath. He took Harry's hand in his, locking their fingers together. Harry rolled over, leaning in to kiss Zayn's cheek. Zayn felt amazing, but at the same time, he felt a terribly deep, sad ache in his chest that this wasn't his life. That <em>Harry </em>wasn't his life; not in a real way. </p>
<p>"Fuck," Zayn whispered unconsciously and Harry looked at him curiously. Zayn sighed. "I feel like I can't fucking breathe when you're not with me," he said. "When you're not mine," he clarified, echoing the sentiments of the song. </p>
<p>"Make me yours," Harry murmured back. </p>
<p>Zayn sat up, resting his arms on his knees. He looked at Harry over his shoulder, feeling miserable. "I can't," he said, voice barely making any noise. Harry stared back at him sadly. "I fucking can't." </p>
<p>Harry passed a hand through Zayn's hair. "I know," he murmured. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by that." </p>
<p>Zayn bit his lip. "Ask me for anything else." </p>
<p>"Stay tonight?" Harry sighed quietly and Zayn felt a stab of guilt that after all of this time, Harry still felt like he needed to ask. </p>
<p>Zayn dropped his gaze, suddenly feeling like he was unable to move. He shook his head, swallowing against the lump in his throat and looked out of Harry's window. <em>Don't fucking cry, Zayn. </em>Harry stroked his hair for a few moments before clearing his throat. "Zayn," he prompted him quietly and before Zayn knew what was happening, his vision was blurry and his cheeks were wet. </p>
<p>He cleared his throat, trying to stop, and Harry sat up beside him, gently touching his back. Zayn's breath was coming too fast, and his chest felt like it was closed off. "Fuck," he muttered between sharp, painful breaths, hands shaking. Harry took one of Zayn's hand in his and leaned his head on Zayn's shoulder, letting him cry. Zayn was utterly humiliated, but he couldn't stop, and the way Harry gently pressed kisses on his collarbone made him feel like it was okay. </p>
<p>"Will you come here?" Harry asked gently, tugging Zayn's arms away from where they were hugging his knees. Zayn fell into Harry's arms with an embarrassing sob, letting Harry hold him. After a few moments it passed and Zayn sighed, feeling drained. </p>
<p>Harry pressed his lips against Zayn's temple. "Can I kiss you?" he murmured against it. Zayn tilted his head up and Harry's fingers stroked over his throat before he kissed him softly, reassuringly. </p>
<p>Zayn took one of Harry's hands in his. "If we had a day with no one following us," he murmured. "I'd let you take me wherever you wanted to go. And I'd let you kiss me, in broad daylight, on the street." </p>
<p>Harry smiled. "I'd like that." </p>
<p>Zayn wiped at his eyes irritably. "You still want me to stay?" </p>
<p>Harry nodded. "'Course. I always want you." Zayn smiled slightly as Harry leaned in to kiss him again. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <strong>Harry</strong>
</p>
<p>Harry listened to Zayn sleep for a long time. He'd woken back up an hour ago as the sun came up, just watching Zayn dream. He was sleeping so peacefully, eyes fluttering every now and then. His arm was tossed over Harry's chest, and Harry felt obliged to keep still for as long as possible. </p>
<p>He'd waited until Zayn had fallen asleep to cry. He knew he had to wait to deal with his own feelings because he had never seen Zayn cry like that before and that meant something was really wrong. Not only that, it seemed like what was making him sad was the fact that they could probably never really be together. God only knew how much time Harry had spent crying over that. </p>
<p>He got up to eat, trying not to disturb Zayn. When Zayn walked into the kitchen ten minutes later wearing his Green Bay sweater, he wanted to grin from ear to ear. "Morning," he said. </p>
<p>Zayn smiled at him so sleepily that Harry felt like melting. "Morning," he said, voice hoarse. </p>
<p>"How'd you sleep?" Harry asked, turning as Zayn walked over to him. </p>
<p>"You snore," Zayn chuckled. </p>
<p>Harry winced. "Sorry." </p>
<p>Zayn shrugged. "I slept just fine," he sighed and leaned over Harry, kissing him slowly. Harry smiled against him, wrapping his arm around Zayn's waist. </p>
<p>"You feel any better?" Harry murmured. </p>
<p>Zayn nodded, kissing him again. "Thank you, babe." </p>
<p>"What now?" Harry asked. </p>
<p>Zayn shrugged. "You're due back in London soon, aren't you?" </p>
<p>"Tomorrow night." </p>
<p>"Shame," Zayn sighed, biting the inside of his cheek. "I could stand to hang around you for a little while longer." </p>
<p>Harry shrugged, smiling at him. "You could stay until then, if you want." </p>
<p>Zayn eyed him, eyes sparkling. "Yeah?" </p>
<p>Harry nodded. "Sure. I can cancel some stuff. I <em>was</em> on my way to take a shower," he sighed dramatically, and stood up, tugging on Zayn's arm. "I wouldn't complain necessarily if you wanted one too." Zayn grinned and allowed Harry to pull him upstairs. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <strong>Zayn </strong>
</p>
<p>Zayn spent the entire day with Harry in bed, watching movies and playing video games, and sleeping with him more than once. He smoked on the balcony every once in a while, trying to work up an appetite. As the sun was going down, he dipped into Harry's dresser for a change of clothes, and paused when he found a black bottle of nail polish in his top drawer. He eyed it, wondering whose it was. He felt strong jealousy and tried to tamp it down, although his mind immediately raced to wondering who the girl was. Who was so special to Harry that he wanted to keep her nail polish in his top drawer? </p>
<p>"Do you want to order some Thai food?" Harry asked from the bed, scrolling through his phone. </p>
<p>Zayn turned the bottle of nail polish over in his hand. "What's this, babe?" he asked. Harry looked up. "Did a girl leave this here?" <br/><br/></p>
<p>"Umm... no," Harry said and then paused. "I mean, maybe. I don't know." </p>
<p>Zayn swallowed. "You don't have to lie to me about having girls over, it's okay." </p>
<p>Harry sighed. "Um, it's not that. It's uh... it's mine," he said, stumbling over his words. He glanced away. "I like how it looks sometimes." </p>
<p>Zayn smiled at him and walked over, sitting on the bed in front of him. He looked down at Harry's hands. "I've never seen you wear it." </p>
<p>Harry scoffed. "Like Chris would ever let me go anywhere I could get photographed with it on," he muttered. "I just take it off after a few hours usually, before anyone can see. No need to start anything. Can you imagine the headlines?" </p>
<p>Zayn sighed. "Yeah," he nodded. "I think it would look nice with your rings." </p>
<p>Harry smiled, stretching his fingers out. "It does," he said, and Zayn liked hearing the hint of confidence that crept back into his voice. "And it's kind of soothing. Like painting, sort of, you know?" </p>
<p>Zayn got an idea. "Can I paint them?" he asked. </p>
<p>Harry raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Paint what?" </p>
<p>Zayn chuckled, reaching over to grab one of Harry's hands. "Your nails, babe. Can I paint them for you?" </p>
<p>Harry smiled, looking slightly puzzled. "You want to?" </p>
<p>Zayn shrugged. "Yeah. Like an art project, isn't it?" </p>
<p>Harry grinned and nodded. "Okay, yeah. Let's do it on the floor though." </p>
<p>He got some paper towels and Zayn sat cross-legged on the floor. He took one of Harry's hands in his. "You have to shake the bottle," Harry said and Zayn raised an eyebrow at him. Harry shrugged. "Kendall told me that once." Zayn smirked and tried not to feel jealous that Kendall knew about this before he did. </p>
<p>Harry was wrong; it was decidedly <em>not </em>like painting. Zayn got frustrated with the texture right away, surprised at how hard it was. He hated how his hand was shaking with the tiny little brush. "Keep <em>still," </em>he muttered to Harry, who was doing his best not to laugh. </p>
<p>When he was done, Zayn looked over his work. "I made a proper mess of this, babe." </p>
<p>Harry chuckled. "Yeah, but I don't mind. No one is going to see but me." </p>
<p>Zayn shook his head. "You should redo it. Do it how you like it." </p>
<p>"No," Harry insisted. "I like it just fine." He lifted his right hand to blow on the nails, so Zayn picked up the left one to do the same. Harry watched him out of the corner of his eyes, amused. </p>
<p>Zayn smoothed his hand over Harry's, taking in the sight. "I didn't think your hands could get more attractive," he chuckled. "I was wrong." </p>
<p>"You don't mind it?" Harry asked. "Honestly." </p>
<p>Zayn nodded. "I like it." </p>
<p>"You don't think it makes me look... I don't know..." Harry trailed off. </p>
<p>Zayn smiled at him. "You just look like Harry. Perfect as ever." </p>
<p>Harry snorted. "Hardly." </p>
<p>"Hey," Zayn took hold of Harry's chin, pulling him close. "If you like it, I like it. It's sexy." Harry laughed and kissed him. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <em>"You should've told me how long you were staying." </em>
</p>
<p>Zayn paced around Harry's balcony, getting his daily dose of yelling from Perrie. He'd missed her call the night before while he and Harry were passed out from eating too much Thai food and he'd woken up to a dozen angry texts, because she'd expected him to come meet her in New York, and he'd cancelled. He watched through the glass doors as Harry walked out of the bathroom, towel hanging low around his hips. "I'm sorry that I had to cancel. I'm getting a lot of work done and everyone agreed that I should keep at it. I'm flying back to Bradford at the end of the week and I promised to spend some time with Mum, but then I can meet you after." </p>
<p>"<em>But I'm leaving on Friday to go to Italy," </em>Perrie complained as Harry winked at him. "<em>I thought we'd agreed to try and spend more time together and you just-" </em></p>
<p>"I'm sorry," Zayn sighed, rubbing his eyes. He glanced over at Harry, who was pulling on his boxers, and bit his lip. "I had to stay. It was the important." </p>
<p>
  <em>"Am I not important?" </em>
</p>
<p>Zayn squirmed slightly. He knew it was a fair question, based on his short phone calls and texts lately, but he was starting to feel defensive. "You are, babe. You're turning this into a bigger deal than it needs to be," he sighed. "Work is work. I have to be here." </p>
<p><em>"But you're not even with the other guys right now, you could call in front anywhere if you really wanted to," </em>he argued. </p>
<p>Zayn lifted his eyes as Harry pushed open the balcony door, stepping out in his little yellow shorts that have always driven Zayn wild. Harry slid his hands onto Zayn's hips, pulling him close. "This is important to me too, but I can't just-" His words got caught in his mouth as Harry pressed an open-mouthed kiss under his jaw. "Sorry. I can't leave yet." </p>
<p>"<em>Are you serious?" </em></p>
<p>Harry immediately took a step back when he heard her voice and looked slightly worried. "Sorry," he mouthed and turned away. </p>
<p>Zayn grabbed his wrist to stop him and looked him in the eye. "Listen, I'll text you later. I have to go. Something important came up." He hung up the phone, tossing it on the table. </p>
<p>"I didn't know who you were talking to," Harry said, leaning away from him. "You can call her back if you want." </p>
<p>Zayn shook his head. "I don't want to. I'm here to be with you, aren't I?" </p>
<p>Harry smiled slightly and nodded. He tugged Zayn closer, planting a kiss on the side of his mouth. Zayn smiled, relieved. "Can I make you some breakfast?" Harry offered. </p>
<p>Zayn raised an eyebrow. "What do you have?" </p>
<p>"I'll make you these eggs with peppers and cheese my mum taught me to do," Harry said. "They're good, trust me." </p>
<p>"I don't know if I trust you," Zayn teased him and Harry pretended to look shocked. "But I definitely trust your mum." </p>
<p>"You better or I'll tell her otherwise," Harry joked and Zayn grinned. </p>
<p>They spent all day in the kitchen after Zayn found a horrifying bag of frozen biryani in Harry's freezer and they ordered groceries so that Zayn could tear him how to cook classic Indian food. They smoked together, sharing smith and breaths through kisses. Harry blasted music through his speakers while Zayn cooked and forced Zayn to dance with him. Sometimes he was just aimlessly jumping around and other times, when the music slowed, he put Zayn's arms around his neck and swayed back and forth. </p>
<p>"Come here," Harry insisted as <em>Make You Feel My Love </em>by Bob Dylan came around on shuffle and Zayn rolled his eyes, amused as Harry tossed Zayn's arms around his shoulders again, pulling close as they slowly moved, cheek to cheek. He felt warm and safe, especially as Harry whispered the lyrics into his neck and against his cheek, "<em>go to the ends of the Earth for you... to make you feel my love." </em>Overwhelmed, Zayn moved closer to Harry and kissed him for a long moment, bringing him as near as possible. </p>
<p>They smoked again as the next song played. Zayn was incredibly high and obsessing over Harry, running his hands over Harry's arms and his fingers over every inch of his face. "You're so fucking perfect," Zayn murmured as he stroked a finger over the dip in Harry's top lip and Harry laughed, as if the idea he was perfection was ludicrous. Every little thing Zayn cooked, he'd take a piece of it and feed it to Harry. He dipped a finger into the sauce he was making, totally captivated with watching Harry lick it off. Zayn kissed him a lot, because Harry tasted better than everything. They had sex on the kitchen floor, which was so good that Zayn thought he was dreaming. </p>
<p>They ended up in Harry's bathtub together as the sun went down, facing each other. Harry was rambling, overstimulated after smoking so much and letting his mind run wild. Zayn listened intently, amused because Harry didn't often let loose like this. Harry pulled Zayn's feet onto his chest, absentmindedly rubbing them. Zayn slipped his hand over Harry's leg to get his attention. "You know, babe, you're smarter than you let on." </p>
<p>Harry glanced at him, eyes low and heavy. "Hm?" </p>
<p>"I mean, you do say some pretty silly stuff every now and again and especially in interviews," Zayn said pointedly and Harry rolled his eyes. "But you're really, really smart. Why don't you let on?" </p>
<p>Harry shrugged. "I don't mean not to, I guess. I think I just get nervous in front of people. Like I'll sound like I don't know what I'm talking about." He used his toes to splash at Zayn slightly. "I don't care what <em>you </em>think." </p>
<p>"Yeah, right," Zayn smirked and lifted up Harry's foot to kiss his ankle. "I mean it. You're smart and I like it when you show me." </p>
<p>Harry smiled, looking slightly insecure. "You really think so?" </p>
<p>That made Zayn a little sad. "Yeah." He stood up and turned around to lie back against Harry's chest, settling against him. Harry's arms immediately closed around him, holding him tight. Zayn linked a few of their fingers together, kissing them. "You're not only good for sex, baby." </p>
<p>Harry chuckled. "Thanks for saying that." </p>
<p>"I mean it," Zayn said. "Don't let these shitty interviewers and shallow fans try to tell you anything else, okay?" </p>
<p>Harry kissed the back of Zayn's neck. "Thank you." </p>
<p>Zayn kissed Harry's hand again. There were so many other things he wanted to say, so many other praises and reassurances, and maybe even those three words that had been plaguing the back of his mind. But he didn't. Even when they were at the tip of his tongue as Harry held him close, kissing him sweetly. This was one of those rare moments where he let himself feel completely enamored with the boy holding him, no matter how much it would hurt him when it had to be over. He hoped Harry knew just how fucking happy it made him to have days like this with him. They were few and far between, but they were special. It gave him moments to cling to when things were hard. </p>
<p>"This is my favorite kind of day," Zayn ventured to say, watching the end of the sunset. He traced over Harry's tattoos on his wrist. He'd long lost track of time, but he knew that Harry was going to have to start packing soon. </p>
<p>"Me too," Harry sighed and he sounded nervous. Zayn understood why. There was a fifty-fifty chance that they were either going to fight or they were going to go their separate ways without saying anything to each other and he didn't like either option. Harry probably felt the same way. </p>
<p>"I have to get to the airport at nine-thirty," Harry said. "You want to stay till then, or...?" </p>
<p>Zayn hesitated, unconsciously tightening his grip on Harry's arm. "Um..." </p>
<p>"It's not that I want you to go," Harry clarified carefully. "I Just wanted you to know what's up." </p>
<p>"I don't want to leave yet," Zayn admitted. </p>
<p>Harry leaned over him, kissing his cheek. "Then don't. You can stay if you want. Even after I go." </p>
<p>Zayn raised an eyebrow. "Really?" </p>
<p>"You have a code," Harry shrugged. "I won't be here and the house is hardly lived in. You can, if you want to. Just lock up when you leave." </p>
<p>"Tempting," Zayn sighed. </p>
<p>"I'd ask you to come to London with me, but..." Harry sighed, stopping himself. "It's for you, the house. If you need to get away." </p>
<p>Zayn smiled. "Just like that?" </p>
<p>Harry shrugged as if it was the easiest decision in the world. "Sure." </p>
<p>That pulled on Zayn's heartstrings and he smiled, tipping his head back so that Harry would kiss him. He did. "You're so..." he started. </p>
<p>"What?" Harry murmured. </p>
<p>"You're so good to me," Zayn sighed. </p>
<p>"I kind of like you, if you didn't know," Harry chuckled. </p>
<p>Zayn grinned. "I wish we could have more days like this. Just me and you." </p>
<p>"I'll take what I can get," Harry sighed and Zayn's heart thudded. </p>
<p>He couldn't stop pacing later as Harry packed for London, having trouble deciding if he needed to spend every second with him or if he couldn't bear to watch him get ready to leave. </p>
<p>Harry started to look more nervous the later it got and Zayn wondered how they were going to say goodbye to each other; how they were going to leave it. The bottom line was that nothing had really changed, even though he wished it had. He didn't really want to fight, but as much as he felt like he knew Harry, he could still be hard to predict. Harry still had major problems with the fact that Zayn was engaged to someone else and Zayn still had major problems with Harry's constant passive aggressive tantrums and impatience over their situation. His heart ached slightly when he saw Harry taking off the black nail polish, and knew the dream was over. </p>
<p>He was looking out over the balcony and smoking when Harry came up behind him, putting an arm around his waist. Zayn relaxed against his chest. "That's everything," Harry sighed and tugged gently at the sweater Zayn was wearing. "Except this." </p>
<p>Zayn wasn't sure why, but his heart sank. "Uh, yeah, sorry," he said, but made no move to take it off. </p>
<p>"Will you hang onto it for me?" Harry asked and kissed him under his ear. </p>
<p>"Sure," Zayn smiled, putting his hand on top of Harry's. "Thanks." </p>
<p>Harry took the joint out of his hand and Zayn leaned back to watch Harry take a hit. They stood like that for a little while, passing it back and forth and looking out at nothing. Zayn threaded his fingers through Harry's, holding hem against his chest. "I don't want you to go, babe," he said suddenly. </p>
<p>Harry sighed. "Me either." </p>
<p>Harry did leave, though, because Zayn wasn't really his boyfriend. He wasn't someone that could demand that Harry stay. Harry kissed him for a while, lips moving from Zayn's mouth to his cheek and neck before he grabbed his suitcase and headed out of the door with a "see you in a few weeks." </p>
<p>One thing had changed, Zayn supposed, as he watched Harry's car pull out of the driveway. As much as he wanted not to be, he was definitely in love. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The one when Louis finds out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>summer 2014</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Louis</strong>
</p>
<p>"Malik." </p>
<p>Zayn looked up when Louis gave him a light kick in the shin, trying to get his attention. He shoved the blunt they'd been sharing in Zayn's face to get him to take it. They were trying to get high before their show tonight. "Here." Zayn took it from him with a sigh, slipping his phone into his pocket. He had been staring at his phone with a frown on his face for the entire hour they'd been out on the balcony. "What's so damn interesting on your phone, anyway?" Louis teased. </p>
<p>"Sorry," Zayn offered him a smile, picking up the lighter. He fiddled with it after he took a hit, chewing on his lip. Louis wondered why he was being so quiet. </p>
<p>"So, um..." Louis sighed, trying to think of a conversation starter. "Perrie leaving after the show tonight?" She had come to visit him a few days ago. </p>
<p>"That's the plan, yeah," Zayn nodded. </p>
<p>"How'd she like South America?" </p>
<p>Zayn shrugged. "Good, I think. You know, she doesn't really have trouble with traveling and all that, so as far as I know, she's having fun." </p>
<p>"I miss Eleanor," Louis sighed. "It's really not the same to talk to her on the phone as it is to be with her. It's always hardest for the first month or two to go without her, you know? Like after being able to see her everyday? Especially 'cause she starts uni just when I'm shipped halfway around the world," he sighed and Zayn nodded. "I'm jealous you get to see Pez when you want." </p>
<p>Zayn looked up at the sky. "Yeah, I guess I know what you mean. Feels like a part of you is with them and when they're gone...  it fucking sucks." </p>
<p>Louis raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't thinking of it that intensely, but agreed. It fucking sucks." </p>
<p>"Can't Eleanor come for a visit?" Zayn asked. </p>
<p>"I don't know," Louis sighed. "She's not technically supposed to be away from her program until classes are out, and she's really busy. I'd send her a jet or something just for the night, but everyone's been riding my ass about spending too much money these days. As if I'm going to run out," he muttered and Zayn chuckled. "I could do it, but it'd just cause a whole thing and she might not even be able to come anyway." </p>
<p>"Sucks," Zayn sympathized. </p>
<p>Both of their phones beeped and Louis pulled his out, reading their group message. Harry had responded to their chat about going to an afterparty with a plain, "<em>Not going to be there.</em>" Louis sighed, glancing over at Zayn. Zayn just set his jaw as he read it and tossed his phone onto the table like he was sick of looking at it. </p>
<p>"You know what's up with Harry the last few days?" Louis asked. "Kid's been right moody lately." </p>
<p>Zayn shrugged, looking irritated. "I don't know." </p>
<p>"He doesn't talk much to me anymore," Louis said regretfully and eyed Zayn. "I figured he'd tell you over the rest of us if something was wrong. You sure he didn't mention anything?" </p>
<p>"Nah," Zayn shook his head. "I never know what's going on in that one's brain, honestly. Ask Niall, maybe." </p>
<p>"Might be issues with Paige again," Louis chuckled, digging at Harry a bit. "Or Kendall. Whichever it is these days." </p>
<p>"Can we talk about literally anything else?" Zayn grumbled. Louis rose an eyebrow, but dropped the subject. </p>
<p>Harry had barely said two words to any of them off stage in the past few days, and had been only hanging around their drummer, Josh, and his friends. Louis was kind of worried about him, but there wasn't much he could do. They were still friends, but they definitely weren't as close as they used to be anymore. It didn't help that they could barely look at each other in public without some of their fans thinking they were secretly married. </p>
<p>He forgot about it as the text came in that the vans were ready to take them to the venue. "Ready, mate?" Louis said as he stood, clapping Zayn on the shoulder. "Van's downstairs waiting." </p>
<p>Zayn sighed and stood up to follow him. "Where the fuck are we again?" </p>
<p>Louis smirked as he opened the door. "I think it's... Uruguay?" </p>
<p>Zayn frowned. "I thought that started with a P." </p>
<p>Louis shook his head. "No, there's two different ones, mate." He paused when they got to the elevator. "I think." Zayn laughed. </p>
<p>He watched Zayn say goodbye to Perrie at the vans and felt an ache in his chest when he saw them hug. He decided to throw caution to the wind and texted his assistant right then to book Eleanor a plane to Uruguay. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <em>after the show </em>
</p>
<p>"Louis," Eleanor laughed as Louis squeezed her around the waist, trying to drag her back into bed. "I'm just going to get ice." </p>
<p>"If Paul sees you, I'm dead," Louis protested. "I'm not supposed to spend money on private jets to fly out girlfriends. He'll tell management and then I'll get told off for not 'considering the consequences.'" </p>
<p>"Will you just come with me, then?" she chuckled, tossing his clothes over to him. </p>
<p>He sighed and pulled them on, taking her hand as she grabbed the ice bucket. "I've got it," he said and she smiled, following him out of the room. </p>
<p>The hallway was entirely quiet and Eleanor took his hand. "See? Nothing to worry about." </p>
<p>"I'm not convinced," Louis muttered. "Paul's always lurking around." </p>
<p>"You're worried about nothing," Eleanor teased him. </p>
<p>Just as they turned the corner in the hallway, the elevator dinged and Louis pushed her back gently. "Shh, shh," he whispered. "I hear someone." </p>
<p>Laughter echoed through the hallways and Louis relaxed when he recognized Harry's voice. He poked his head around the corner, watching as Harry and Zayn stumbled down the corridor together. Harry was towing Zayn along with him, who was clearly cross-faded out of his mind. Harry was too, grinning from ear to ear as he dragged Zayn down the hallway. "Where is your room?" Zayn complained and Harry rolled his eyes with a smirk. </p>
<p>"It's just a few more corridors down, we can make it!" Harry teased him by moving slowly, like he was in quicksand. Zayn smacked him on the arm, Harry pretended to look offended, and they both burst into what could only be described as giggles. </p>
<p>Eleanor leaned over. "Is it just them?" </p>
<p>"I don't know yet," Louis whispered back. </p>
<p>Zayn stumbled, leaning back against the wall. Louis watched, waiting for security to come around the bend. He knew he could technically do what wanted, but if he could avoid the lecture, he would. "No, no, no, we have to keep going," Harry groaned, taking a step back towards Zayn. "If we stop now, we'll never make it." Louis bit back laughter. <em>They're plastered. </em></p>
<p>Zayn shook his head. "My head is spinning, babe, I need to chill for a second," he laughed breathlessly. </p>
<p>Louis frowned. <em>Babe? </em>He glanced back at Eleanor, who looked confused. "Babe?" she mouthed to him and he shrugged. <em>Zayn's just drunk. </em></p>
<p>Harry tripped over his own feet, grabbing at the wall to hold himself up, both hands landing on either side of Zayn's head. Zayn grabbed him by his arms in an attempt to catch him, eyes wide and shining as he grinned. They both erupted into another fit of laughter. </p>
<p>As the laughter tapered off, Zayn looked up at Harry who was leaning over him. Harry was really close to him now. "Kiss me," Zayn murmured, but not quietly enough. Louis' jaw dropped. </p>
<p>Harry smiled, and looked around the hallway. Louis stumbled back, out of sight. "Here? You sure?" </p>
<p>"What the fuck?" Louis whispered to himself. Eleanor frowned as well, and leaned past him to peek around the corner. </p>
<p>"Here," Zayn insisted, tilting Harry's face back towards his. "I don't want to wait." </p>
<p>Harry clearly didn't need to be told twice, because he slid his hands over Zayn's waist, pulling him in and kissing him heatedly. Zayn moaned, which made Louis want to die, and pushed his hands into Harry's hair, trying to bring him impossibly closer. </p>
<p>Louis looked away, sharing a shocked glance with Eleanor. "What are they doing?" she mouthed and Louis just shook his head, willing for her to be silent. The last thing he wanted was for Zayn or Harry to realize they had been caught. </p>
<p>It was completely quiet in the hall except for the nauseating noises of Harry and Zayn's heavy breaths and lips locking together. They stopped and Zayn laughed. "Okay, you're right, babe, we need to find your room," he chuckled. Harry said something to him too quietly to hear and then Louis heard retreating footsteps. He looked again around the corner to see Harry and Zayn walk off in the other direction, going over to what must've been Harry's room, hand in hand. </p>
<p>Louis waited until he heard the door close before he slumped against the wall, staring at Eleanor with wide eyes. "Are they- I mean, did you know anything about this?" she stammered, perplexed. </p>
<p>"No fucking clue," Louis shook his head and the wheels in his brain started turning. "I wonder how long- I mean, they've always been close, but... and Harry's always fucking pissed off when Perrie's around," he said and closed his eyes. "Oh, my God." He immediately felt terrible for them. </p>
<p>Eleanor raised an eyebrow. "I mean... it really didn't look like that was the first time they'd done that." That thought made Louis' stomach turn. <em>How could that be possible? And neither of them told me? </em></p>
<p>Louis grabbed Eleanor by the shoulders, looking at her intensely. "You can't say anything. To anyone," he said sternly. </p>
<p>"Of course not," she stammered. "But I mean, if Perrie asks me-" </p>
<p>"You <em>lie,"</em> Louis said in a hushed voice. "I'm dead serious, El." </p>
<p>Eleanor eyed him for a second and then conceded, nodding. "Yeah, okay," he sighed. </p>
<p>The next morning, when both Harry and Zayn seemed to be back in perfectly good spirits, Louis put two and two together. He was dying to ask them what the hell was going on, but he decided against it. He assumed that whatever they had was probably already complicated enough. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The one when they have to take care of each other</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>fall 2014</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Zayn </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Gorgeous. </em>
</p>
<p>Zayn bit his lip as he watched Harry, who was center-stage while their team was checking their mics. He was stretching his arms over his head and his shirt had ridden up, exposing his soft-but-strong stomach. Just above his hip, Zayn could still see the faintest bite mark that he'd left there the night before. <em>He's so gorgeous. </em>He smiled when Harry's eyes landed on him and felt himself get warm when Harry popped open another one of his shirt buttons with a smirk. <em>Fucking tease. </em></p>
<p>His mind raced as he tried to think of the next moment he could get Harry alone, and where. He glanced around, wondering if there were any good hidden-away closets backstage. He knew they were starting to get less and less careful, but he didn't really care. Even though they still sometimes had their ups and downs where Perrie was involved, things had been so, <em>so </em>fucking good between them since Zayn had visited him in L.A. Harry was consuming him in every possible way and Zayn didn't want it to stop. He day-dreamt all the time about whisking Harry away on vacation, maybe to Jamaica or to a private island, somewhere that they could stay in bed all day, smoke and drink, and have sex on the beach. He even indulged himself by looking into private hotels in the Caribbean and asking his assistant to keep an eye out for days off in the future. Harry deserved all of it and more. </p>
<p>Zayn was snapped out of his daydream when Liam clapped him on the shoulder. "My bad, mate," Liam laughed as he jumped. "You good?" </p>
<p>"Mm," Zayn nodded, glancing back over at Harry, who was singing. </p>
<p>"Look, um, I just thought I would warn you..." Liam glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. "Simon just pulled up to the venue. He's looking for you, apparently." </p>
<p>Zayn groaned. Simon was part of their public relations management team. He generally had negative feelings towards Zayn. "Why? What the fuck did I do now?" </p>
<p>"I really don't know?" Liam sighed and cleared his throat. "Good luck." </p>
<p>"Zayn!" Simon called his name cheerfully and Zayn closed his eyes for a second, mustering up a fake smile as he turned around. </p>
<p>"Simon," Zayn sighed. "What's going on?" </p>
<p>"You have a second?" Simon tilted his head over to the backstage area, and Zayn bit back a groan, following him into one of the green rooms. </p>
<p>The only thing waiting for him in that room was one hell of a lecture. According to Simon, he hadn't been enough of a team player lately, and he was going to find himself in trouble soon if he didn't get his act together soon. The longer the lecture went on, the less Zayn felt like he could breathe. It almost sounded like a threat. </p>
<p>"And you know it's really unprofessional to come to venues reeking of smoke," Simon continued on, and Zayn held his tongue. He wondered why Louis wasn't receiving the same lecture, but he was pretty sure he knew the answer. </p>
<p>"Simon!" </p>
<p>Zayn looked up in surprise just as Harry poked his head into the green room with a phony grin on his face. He walked in, and held his hand out to Simon. "How's it going, mate? What brings you here?" </p>
<p>"Harry," Simon said with a smile that was just as fake. Harry shook his hand rather firmly and Simon looked uncomfortable. Zayn felt a bit of relief; nobody on the management team really messed too much with Harry and they tried to be nothing but civil in front of him. "I'm just keeping track of a few things for the bosses." </p>
<p>"Works out well for you that you get to see Europe, too," Harry sighed and sat down right beside Zayn, their legs pressed together. Zayn took a deep breath; Harry was daring Simon to keep yelling while he was there. "You having a good time?" </p>
<p>Simon nodded tensely, and sighed. "Yeah, it's been fun. Um... I'm going to head back out. Think about what we discussed," he said to Zayn before heading out of the room. </p>
<p>The second he did, Zayn put his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes. <em>Fuck fuck fuck. </em>Harry stood and moved in front of him, resting his hands on Zayn's legs. "I overheard," he murmured. "Are you okay?" Zayn shook his head, trying to take deep breaths. "What do you need me to do?" </p>
<p>"Just... stand here with me for a minute?" Zayn sighed helplessly. </p>
<p>"Yeah, 'course," Harry nodded, resting his hands on Zayn's legs. Zayn sighed, circling his fingers around Harry's wrists. He took a few deep breaths, and Harry leaned over him, kissing his cheek gently. Zayn slid one of his hands into Harry's hair, holding him in place for a moment. "It'll all be fine," Harry murmured against his skin. Zayn sighed. <em>No, it won't. </em></p>
<p>He decided that he didn't care where they were, or that someone could come in and see them. He tilted Harry's face towards his and kissed him, desperate for comfort. Harry's hands moved up to his waist, pulling him a little closer, and the tension in Zayn's shoulders started melting away. A moan slipped out of him as the only thing he could feel became <em>Harry. </em>Harry kissed him slowly, sweetly. <em>He knows I need it. </em></p>
<p>After a few moments, Harry tried to take a step back and Zayn pulled him in again, lifting one of his legs to wrap around Harry's hips. He was tempted to abandon the show and drag Harry back to their hotel room. "Zayn," Harry breathed, squeezing Zayn's hips. "We gotta get back." </p>
<p>"Take my clothes off first," Zayn whispered and Harry bit his lip. </p>
<p>"We don't have time," he whispered back. "Tonight," he murmured. "I'll make you feel better." </p>
<p>Zayn groaned and relented, loosening his grip in Harry's curls. "Fine," he sighed and Harry smiled. Zayn kissed him again and let Harry lead him back to the stage. All he was thinking was that he needed to just get through the next few hours. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>After the show, Zayn followed Harry back to his hotel room right away. He didn't bother dropping his stuff off in the room he booked, since he knew he'd be waking up in Harry's room anyway. </p>
<p>Zayn was a little worried, because during the show, he had seen Harry double over in pain onstage, trying to cough surreptitiously so that the fans wouldn't see him. </p>
<p>As soon as they got into the room, Harry dropped all of his things onto the floor and sat on the bed, stretching his arm over his and trying to take deep breaths. "You okay?" Zayn asked. Harry just nodded. "Haz, come on. I saw you wincing during the show." He walked over and brushed Harry's hair away from his neck, pressing a soft kiss against the back of it. Harry sighed deeply, leaning back against him. "Let me take care of you, babe. What hurts?" </p>
<p>Harry was quiet for a second. "My chest," he admitted with a sigh. "I don't know what's wrong." </p>
<p>"Need me to call someone for you?" Zayn offered. </p>
<p>"No, no, it uh-" Harry paused, wincing again slightly. "It'll pass, it always passes." </p>
<p>"Always?" Zayn frowned. "This been bothering you for a while?" </p>
<p>"It's fine," Harry sighed. </p>
<p>Zayn pressed another kiss against his neck. "I'll bring you some water, okay?" </p>
<p>Harry smiled a little. "Thank you." </p>
<p>When Zayn turned back into the room with a glass, he got a rare glimpse of Harry when he thought no one was watching him. <em>Poor thing. </em>He just looked so exhausted. <em>He gives everyone everything in him all day long, me included. </em>Zayn felt a little guilty for a moment, trying to remember the lat time he asked Harry if he was okay. </p>
<p>He walked over and Harry, for his benefit, straightened a little, smiled a little, eyes widened a little. It probably wasn't even on purpose anymore. He set the water down on the side table and slipped his hand over Harry's jaw, tilting it up so that he could kiss him. It was a long kiss, and he tried to put all of his love and appreciation into it. Harry settled his hands on Zayn's hips, holding him close and Zayn could feel Harry's body relax under him. </p>
<p>Harry smiled when Zayn pulled back. "What was that for?" he murmured. </p>
<p>"A lot," Zayn murmured back. He smiled and climbed over Harry's lap, his knees landing on either side of him. <em>It was for so much; far too much to actually ever tell him. </em>Harry wrapped his arms around Zayn's waist, leaning in to press a soft kiss against Zayn's chest, right above where his shirt was still buttoned. Zayn chuckled, pushing his hands through Harry's hair, who looked up at him. Zayn leaned down to kiss him, and Harry sighed, holding him tighter. He nudged Zayn over after a moment, who slipped out of his lap and onto the bed so Harry could get on top of him. He groaned as Harry kissed under his ear, grazing his teeth over Zayn's pulse point. </p>
<p>Harry was working to take Zayn's shirt off when he suddenly winced hard, sucking in his breath. He leaned back on his legs, coughing. "Harry," Zayn sat up, worried. </p>
<p>"Sorry," Harry coughed again, hitting his fist against his chest. </p>
<p>"Don't be," Zayn shook his head, taking Harry's face in his hands. "Are you okay?" </p>
<p>"Yeah, yeah," Harry sighed, swallowing like it hurt him. </p>
<p>"You're not, babe," Zayn said gently. "We don't have to do anything, we can just hang out till it passes." </p>
<p>Harry sighed reluctantly. "Yeah?" </p>
<p>Zayn smiled at him. "Yeah, come here," he murmured, tugging Harry over by his shoulders. Harry settled back against Zayn and rested his head against Zayn's arm. Zayn rubbed Harry's chest gently, trying to soothe him and kissed his cheek. He slid his fingers through Harry's and wrapped their linked arms around his waist. He didn't like how ragged Harry's breaths sounded. </p>
<p>"Why haven't you been to the doctor?" Zayn asked. </p>
<p>"I don't know, I haven't really had time," Harry sighed. "It just happens sometimes on stage, like... I pulled a muscle or something. It always goes away eventually." </p>
<p>"Until it comes back," Zayn argued lightly and Harry shrugged. </p>
<p>"It's no big deal. Gemma think it's stress," Harry sighed. </p>
<p>"I'm sorry," Zayn murmured. "I wish I could do something for you." </p>
<p>"Thanks," Harry chuckled. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me." </p>
<p>But Zayn did worry about him. He watched Harry over the next few weeks, concerned that he wasn't getting any better. There were nights that it didn't bother him as much, and nights when it clearly did. Zayn felt and that he hadn't noticed it before. He felt even worse when his assistant got back to him and he realized he'd have to let go of his dream of sitting next to Harry on the beach for a long time. They were just... <em>stuck. </em>It was so unbelievably fucked up that Harry didn't even have time to go to the doctor, and nobody else around them seemed to notice how unhealthy their lives were becoming. They needed a break, but there wasn't any in sight. It made Zayn's heart sink to think about how long it might be until they got one. He determined that he and Harry would just have to take care of each other until they could figure something else out. That was all they could do. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The one when Liam... and everyone else... finds out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>fall 2014</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Liam </strong>
</p>
<p>The thing between Zayn and Harry was something that Liam had <em>technically </em>known about for a long time. He just didn't <span class="u">want</span> to know. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>FLASHBACK TO EARLY 2013</p>
<p>Zayn exploded through his hotel room door, laughing hysterically and dragging Harry in with him. Liam and the other boys collapsed in behind him, drinks in hand. They had just come from one of their first afterparties, and Louis had snuck two liquor bottles away from behind the bar to fill their cups with. They all agreed that it was stupid that they weren't of legal age to drink in the U.S., so they decided to ignore the rules. Niall downed what was left of the drink, and the glass slipped out of his hand, shattering on the floor. </p>
<p>"Oh, shit," Louis cackled, and bumped into Liam, who felt like he was having an out of body experience. His head was swimming as Zayn turned on loud music and took out his weed. </p>
<p>"Sorry, Zayn," Niall chuckled. </p>
<p>"Fuck's sakes, Niall," Zayn laughed, kicking the bits of broken glass over towards one side of the door. </p>
<p>Harry made himself comfortable on Zayn's bed, pulling out his phone, and Niall collapsed beside him. Liam joined them while Louis moved over to smoke with Zayn, but he was having trouble focusing on any one thing in the room. He barely heard what Harry was saying and when he was shown a funny tweet, he wasn't even able to read it. </p>
<p>Niall laughed at him. "Liam is plastered," he snickered to Harry. </p>
<p>Harry snorted. "You're not much better, mate." </p>
<p>Liam half-heartedly swatted at Niall and fell forward. He closed his eyes, trying to regain some sense of balance. "Oh, God," he murmured as he felt bile rise in his throat. He got up and raced (more like stumbled) to the bathroom, shoving the door closed behind him. </p>
<p>He didn't know how long he was in there, dry heaving and desperately trying to get rid of the poison in his body. He was slowly making his way back to the door after rinsing his mouth out when he heard some of the boys shout their goodbyes, slamming the door behind them. </p>
<p>Liam opened the bathroom door. The music was still blasting really loud, far too loud for his hangover that was already starting to set in. He glanced around before slumping against the doorframe, knees buckling underneath him. He looked over to the front door, which was closer that one of the chairs in the corner, but still seemed too far. He tried to take deep breaths, summoning the strength to get out and back to his own room. </p>
<p>He looked over his shoulder as laughter came from the other direction. Zayn was walking around, blunt in hand. Harry was there too, laughing and singing to the music loudly and badly. Zayn watched him as he smoked, grinning. <em>Louis and Niall must've left. </em></p>
<p>Zayn tossed his finished smoke on the table as Harry sang the song that was playing, dancing around Zayn drunkenly. Zayn was laughing at him, but Liam couldn't hear what they were saying over the music. </p>
<p>He blinked against his blurry eyes as Harry caught Zayn by the waist, pulling him in. Their faces got incredibly close and before Liam could make his presence known, Zayn had hooked his fingers under the collar of Harry's shirt and yanked him down, their lips crashing together. </p>
<p>Liam wasn't registering what he was seeing at first, but in an instant, Harry had picked Zayn up and thrown him onto the bed, climbing over him. His hand slid over Zayn's throat, holding him in place while he kissed under Zayn's ear. Zayn tipped his head back, and his hands gripped at Harry's waist. Liam's mind finally caught up with his eyes as Zayn pushed Harry's shirt off. </p>
<p>He moved towards the door, stumbling to open it and closing it behind him as quietly as he could. He walked crookedly towards his hotel room, squinting to see the numbers on the doors. Louis' door swung open just as Liam was about to walk into his. "Oy, oy!" Louis cheered. "Liam, come back with me. I think I lost one of my shoes in Zayn's room." </p>
<p>"No, no, don't go in there," Liam slurred, shaking his head. Louis frowned at him. "Harry's in there." </p>
<p>"So?" </p>
<p>"They're... in the middle of something," Liam said lamely, and lurched to the side. </p>
<p>"Whoa, whoa," Louis laughed. "Alright, mate, fine, let's get you into bed. I'll get my shoe in the morning." </p>
<p>When Liam woke up the next day, the events of the night before played over in his head again and again. <em>I had to have imagined it. </em>Harry and Zayn were often messing with each other's bodies, squeezing and poking at body parts that Liam himself wouldn't really choose to touch. That had to have been what he saw in the hotel room. They had just gotten a little handsy, like usual. After all, Zayn had a girlfriend. </p>
<p>He watched them throughout the day, but nothing else really seemed out of the ordinary. They were whispering to each other all day long, but they always did that; laughing about stuff that the rest of them never got to hear. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>For the next two years, Liam had convinced himself that he had just been too drunk. Even when Zayn and Harry both showed up one day with matching tattoos on their hips. Even when it seemed like they were fighting after Zayn announced his engagement. Even when Zayn kept asking him where Harry was during the tour break. Even when he overheard Paul mention that Zayn hadn't booked a hotel room in Brazil, but he hadn't slept on the bus either. Zayn and Harry were just close friends. In the back of his mind, he knew he was wrong. </p>
<p>What changed his mind wasn't what he'd expected. He'd expected to have to soberly see a kiss, or a fight, or maybe accidentally walk into a room they were having sex in. But it wasn't any of that that did it. </p>
<p>One morning, in Moscow, Liam had woken up in a particularly cheerful mood after having a really successful show. He and Niall had run into each other in the gym and decided to go get breakfast for everyone, determined to start the day off right. </p>
<p>"Zaaayn," Liam called, rolling his eyes at Niall as he knocked on Zayn's hotel room door for the fifth time in two minutes. Nobody else seemed to be in good spirits; Louis had irritably sent them away after a promise to meet them once he probably woke up and Harry hadn't even answered his door. It was looking like Zayn was going to do the same. </p>
<p>Niall knocked again. "Zayn, come on! We brought you coffee," he sang.</p>
<p>Finally, Zayn cracked the door open. "What, guys?" he muttered, clearly having just crawled out of bed. </p>
<p>"Rise and shine," Niall grinned and Zayn gave him a withering glare. "We got everyone breakfast." </p>
<p>Zayn sighed. "Not hungry, mate. I'll see you guys later." </p>
<p>"Come on!" Liam insisted, pushing the door open. Zayn stumbled back reluctantly, scoffing in protest. Niall filed in behind him as he began to set coffees down. "Louis'll be here in a second. Harry's still sleeping." </p>
<p>"Whoa, this room is way nicer than mine," Niall said, looking around. The living area was huge, and the bedroom was blocked off by sliding glass doors. </p>
<p>Zayn glanced down towards the bedroom, scratching under his chin. "Uh, whatever. Just go get Louis, yeah, I'll meet you guys in his room." </p>
<p>Liam finally looked up and frowned. "Nah, Louis' coming here. Just sit down with us for a minute." </p>
<p>"Zayn?" Liam paused when he heard a familiar man's voice coming from the bedroom. The sliding doors opened and Harry stepped out, holding a toothbrush and mumbling around a mouthful of toothpaste. "Is there any chance you have my- oh." He paused as he looked up at everyone, realizing who was in the room. He looked over at Zayn immediately, eyes wide. </p>
<p>The room fell completely silent for a brief moment. Liam was speechless. Harry had no shirt on, his hair was sticking out in all directions and his eyes were still half-closed. There was absolutely no denying that Harry had just climbed out of Zayn's bed. </p>
<p>Harry cleared his throat, composing himself in a matter of seconds. "Sorry," he said. "What've you got there?" </p>
<p>"Uh..." Liam glanced down at Niall, who was sitting on the couch and turning red. "We brought coffees for everyone. I knocked on your door, too," he explained, sliding a coffee in Harry's direction. He dared a glance at Zayn, who was just watching Harry and looking like he was trying not to laugh. Liam felt a little relieved that Zayn seemed to find the whole thing funny. It was only then that he finally noticed Zayn was wearing a Green Bay Packers sweater that was far too big for him. </p>
<p>"Oh thanks," Harry said and glanced back at Zayn, smiling slightly. Harry stuck the toothbrush back in his mouth and turned back towards the bedroom awkwardly. "I'm just gonna..." he said with a chuckle, gesturing to his toothbrush and walked back into the room. </p>
<p>Liam glanced at Zayn, unsure of what to say, but Zayn seemed surprisingly unfazed. "'Scuse me, guys, I've gotta get dressed," he said, and followed Harry into the bedroom, sliding the door closed behind them. Liam's eyes fell to Harry's shoes, which were discarded in front of the bedroom doors and he suddenly wished very much that he had not barged into this room. </p>
<p>He tried to catch Niall's eye, but Niall was obviously avoiding looking at him, picking at his shoelaces. "Did you know about this?" Liam mumbled under his breath. Niall just sighed, grabbing his coffee. When Liam heard Zayn laughing from behind the bedroom doors, he wanted to crawl into a hole out of pure embarrassment. </p>
<p>Harry came out to join them after a few moments, fully dressed. He pulled his shoes on and casually started making conversation, and Liam was more grateful for Harry's ability to small talk than ever before. Zayn eventually came back out as well, dressed, and plopped down next to Harry on the couch, apparently not caring that they were sitting far too close together. Louis came to the room after a few more minutes, and if he noticed anything about Zayn and Harry, he didn't say it, and Liam decided not to ask him about it later. </p>
<p>The thing was... Liam knew before. Everyone <em>knows. </em>But he desperately wanted to pretend like he didn't know. Lately, Zayn and Harry were making that impossible. It was like they didn't care about the consequences anymore, or they didn't care that Zayn was technically still engaged to someone else. In the following weeks, it became more and more apparent that they were not just fooling around; they were <em>together. </em>Zayn was the one who was starting to get careless; on different occasions, Liam caught him slipping his hand into Harry's on the elevator, falling asleep on Harry's shoulder while they were in the vans and kissing Harry goodbye behind the tour busses before they went their separate ways. </p>
<p>One night, Liam ventured to ask Louis about it. Louis had just shrugged it off, looking massively uncomfortable. "They're doing what they want to do," he'd said. "As long as it doesn't get in the way of us and what we're <em>all </em>trying to do, I'm not going to say a word." Liam agreed, although he wasn't convinced that it wouldn't get in the way. In fact, it seemed to him like that was pretty inevitable. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. The one when Zayn is sick</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>fall 2014</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Harry</strong>
</p>
<p>"Tommmm," Harry called loudly into his phone after getting Tom's voicemail again. "Mate, it's already 11:30. If we're going to get dinner before we go out, we need to do it soon. Call me," he sighed, and flopped back against his bed. They were in Philadelphia, and on a rare occasion, Lou's husband Tom had come for a visit without having brought their daughter, Lux. Harry loved Lux to pieces, but he always had a lot of fun going out with Tom and Lou when they were kid-free. </p>
<p>Harry had asked Zayn to go with them, but he'd declined, saying that he was too tired. Zayn was sleeping an enormous amount lately, and it was starting to worry him. </p>
<p>Zayn was so, so thin these days, and Harry felt enormous relief every time he saw Zayn eat, which was few and far between most days. A month ago, Harry had spent the better part of a week talking Zayn off of the ledge of leaving the band. He'd suddenly decided that he no longer belonged there. Harry had to agree with him that his input to the album was being neglected, but he'd convinced Zayn that there would be another way, and things would turn around. Since then, Zayn had refused to talk to him about it, and had been fading in front of Harry's eyes. Harry had felt like a worried housewife since he noticed Zayn was rapidly losing weight. He was constantly handing Zayn water and nagging him to eat. It was exhausting both of them. A night out was just what Harry needed. </p>
<p>His phone rang and he answered immediately without looking at the contact. "Finally, bro," he chuckled. </p>
<p>"<em>Haz, it's me,</em>" Niall's voice came over the phone. </p>
<p>"Oh, hey," Harry said. "What's up? I'm about to head out." </p>
<p>"<em>Look, um... fuck," </em>Niall muttered and Harry frowned. <em>"I think you need to come down to the hotel bar." </em></p>
<p>"Why?" </p>
<p>"<em>It's Zayn</em>," Niall sighed and Harry sat up. "<em>He's... he's not good. He only had like one drink with me and Louis, but somehow he's really drunk and he can't find his phone. He asked me where you were." </em></p>
<p>"Shit," Harry sighed. "Yeah, okay, I'm on my way. Thanks, mate." </p>
<p>
  <em>"No problem. I'll stay till you get here." </em>
</p>
<p>"Thank you." </p>
<p>When Harry got down to the bar, he found Zayn to be a stumbling mess. Harry guessed that Zayn had barely eaten and had nothing in his stomach to soak up the alcohol. Zayn smiled when he showed up. "Haaaaz," he grinned. Harry slipped an arm over his shoulder and Zayn slumped against him, letting his eyes close as his head hit Harry's chest. </p>
<p>Niall exchanged a worried glance with him. "I got him," Harry mouthed and Niall nodded, retreating back to his table to hang out with Louis and their band. </p>
<p>"Don't fall asleep here," Harry chuckled, and Zayn groaned before reluctantly getting to his feet. </p>
<p>"I don't know where my phone is," he sighed as they walked to the elevator. </p>
<p>"I'll tell Niall to look for it, and if he can't find it, I'll send Mikaela out to get you a new one," Harry said. </p>
<p>Zayn let his eyes close again as the elevator moved up and his feet almost gave out from under him, starting him awake. Harry watched him in concern, nudging him gently with his elbow. As they walked to Harry's door, Zayn collapsed, falling against the wall. </p>
<p>"Fuck, are you okay?" Harry raced to crouch down beside him, panicking when Zayn didn't answer him. "Zayn," he shook him and Zayn's eyes fluttered open as he looked around in confusion. "Zayn," Harry said again, voice thick with concern. "Come on, wake up." </p>
<p>"I'm fine," Zayn croaked out weakly, rubbing his eyes. </p>
<p>"You passed out," Harry argued, taking Zayn's chin inches hand. He eyed him, making sure his color was okay. "You're not fine, you're sick." </p>
<p>Zayn groaned. "Harry..." </p>
<p>"<em>No</em>," Harry said strongly, even though his voice shook. Zayn finally opened his eyes. Harry sighed and stroked Zayn's jaw. "Let me help you. Please." </p>
<p>Zayn stared back up at him. "Okay," he whispered. </p>
<p>"Can you walk?" Harry asked and Zayn hesitated before shaking his head. "I'm going to grab you some water and a granola bar or something." Zayn opened his mouth to protest and Harry shook his head. "You have to eat it, Zayn. I'm not taking no for an answer this time." </p>
<p>Zayn let him go without a fight. Harry ran to his room and opened the mini-fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and a Nature Valley bar. He walked back over to find Zayn slipping out of consciousness, head resting against the wall. Harry sat down beside him quickly and jostled him a bit until he opened his eyes. "Stay with me," he sighed and cracked open the water bottle, handing it over. "Drink up." </p>
<p>Zayn took the water and ate the bar quietly. Harry obsessively took count of how many bites he took, wringing his hands together. Zayn rested his head onto Harry's shoulder when he was finished. "Can we just go to bed?" he asked. </p>
<p>Harry nodded and got on his feet. "Yeah. Can you stand?" </p>
<p>Zayn sighed and looked up at him. "I don't know," he admitted. </p>
<p>"I've got you," Harry said and took Zayn's hands in his, pulling him up. Zayn immediately stumbled back towards the wall with a groan. Harry slid his hand around the back of Zayn's head before he landed, cushioning the blow. "Whoa, Zayn," he frowned with worry. "I'm not kidding, maybe we should take you to the doctor." </p>
<p>"No," Zayn protested. "No doctors," he sighed, leaning his forehead onto Harry's shoulder. </p>
<p>"Okay," Harry sighed and ran his hand down Zayn's back. "Okay, come here, then," he said and walked Zayn over to his bed. Zayn sat down quietly as Harry worked to strip him of his shoes and jeans. He kissed Zayn on his shoulder as he took Zayn's shirt off, too. He reached into his own suitcase and handed Zayn a hoodie. "Here," he murmured. Zayn slipped it on without a word and took Harry's face in his hands, kissing him softly. "You alright?" Harry asked him and Zayn nodded, looking tired. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?" he asked quietly. "Why aren't you eating?" </p>
<p>Zayn just shook his head and kissed him again. "Will you hold me for a while, babe?" </p>
<p>Harry nodded. "Yeah, 'course," he murmured. "Let me just change first." He stepped out into the hallway to call Tom and cancel their plans. </p>
<p>Zayn was passed out by the time he came back in. Harry climbed into bed beside him and put an arm around Zayn's waist. He held Zayn a little tighter than usual, and counted Zayn's ribs that he could feel through the sweater. </p>
<p><em>Zayn is killing himself. </em>Harry swallowed some tears and pressed his lips against Zayn's forehead. <em>I have to do something. </em></p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <strong>Zayn </strong>
</p>
<p>Zayn woke up with a pounding headache, glancing around. He wasn't in his room. He picked up his head, confused, before he smelled Harry's cologne and glanced down at the sweater he was wearing. The events of the night before came back to him and he sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow. He turned his head and found the other side of the bed empty.</p>
<p>The door opened and Harry came through, carrying a cup in his hand. "Morning," he said, looking tired. "I brought you some coffee." He handed the cup to Zayn. "Lou made it. She practically bulldozed Caroline out of the way, so at least we know it's good," he chuckled. </p>
<p>Zayn smirked. "Thanks," he said, sitting up and crossing his legs. "Hey, did you ever find my phone?" </p>
<p>Harry nodded to the TV stand. "Yeah, it's charging over there. Niall found it under the bar, dropped it off this morning." </p>
<p>"Thanks." Zayn eyed Harry, taking a long sip of coffee. "Weren't you supposed to go out with Lou last night?" </p>
<p>"No, it wasn't really a solid plan," Harry shrugged as he toed his shoes off, but Zayn was pretty sure he was lying. He felt a little bad that Harry had to cancel his plans. "I told them I was going to stay in and sleep." </p>
<p>"I'm sorry, babe," Zayn sighed. </p>
<p>"Sorry for what?" Harry asked, drawing one leg up on the bed as he turned to face Zayn. </p>
<p>"I don't know," Zayn frowned. "Making you stay in and take care of me, I guess." </p>
<p>"You didn't make me do anything," Harry said and tangled their fingers together. "I always want to be with you." Zayn smiled and leaned in to kiss him. "Will you come to breakfast with me?" </p>
<p>Zayn leaned away, his stomach turning. "I think I'm going to skip it." </p>
<p>Harry pouted. "Please?" He pulled Zayn closer to kiss him again. </p>
<p>Zayn chuckled against his lips. "No, Haz." </p>
<p>Harry's hand slid down his back, pressing Zayn firmly against him. "I suppose there's other things I could eat this morning." </p>
<p>Zayn laughed a little breathlessly. "Tempting. How long do we have?" </p>
<p>Harry sighed. "We're supposed to be downstairs in ten." Zayn groaned, resting his forehead onto Harry's shoulder. "'M sorry. I tried to let you sleep in as much as I could." </p>
<p>Zayn sighed. "Thanks, babe." </p>
<p>He moved through the rest of the morning in a haze, feeling disconnected, like he usually did these days. He was starving; hunger was clawing up his throat and it was hard to think about anything else. But every time he thought about reaching for a sandwich or a bag of crisps, he felt nauseous and pushed the thought away. He smoked with Louis before a conference call meeting with their managers, trying to get through it any way that he could. </p>
<p>He barely listened during the meeting as Chris went over their itinerary for the upcoming press tour for FOUR and tried not to imagine how exhausting it all was going to be. He let his head tip back, closing his eyes. </p>
<p>"<em>If there's nothing else, we can start </em><em>wrapping up,</em>" Chris said. </p>
<p>"Yeah, there is one more thing, actually," Harry interrupted him. "Um... I'm starting to think that we should take a break soon." </p>
<p>Chris was quiet over the phone for a moment. <em>"You mean... a break from the meeting? We're almost done." </em></p>
<p>"No," Harry cleared his throat. He wasn't making eye contact with anyone in the room, staring at the phone. "I mean a break from the work." Zayn lifted his head immediately. "Tour, press, all of it. I think we should consider taking a year or two off from the band." Zayn stared at him in surprise.</p>
<p>The room was stuck in stunned silence for a long moment, so Harry continued. "We've been working for nearly four years straight, and I think we're starting to exhaust everything; ourselves, the fan base, all of it. We could use some time to regroup, and even more time to work on our next album. I don't think it's working anymore to write and record them on the road. If we keep just pumping out content without any time to properly craft it, we'll start to burn out and the fans will start to notice. There's something to be said of keeping them waiting." </p>
<p>"<em>Harry, if you look at the numbers, we're doing better than ever. Sales are better than every and the tour venues are twice, three times bigger than before and they're full. There's no evidence that the fans are losing interest if that's what you mean,"</em> Chris answered. </p>
<p>"I want it to be considered," Harry said. "At the end of this tour, we should consider taking a twelve-month break, minimum." </p>
<p>"<em>I would strongly, strongly advise you against that</em>," Chris sighed. "<em>I wouldn't even bring it up to Syco if I were you." </em></p>
<p>"Just so you know, Chris, no one else is on board with this supposed plan," Louis spoke up, staring daggers into Harry. "I don't know where the hell this is coming from." </p>
<p>Chris sighed. "<em>Alright, Harry, draw up a formal plan with Ben. I can't imagine that any of your teams will sign off on it, but do it if you feel that strongly about it." </em></p>
<p>"I'll have one by the end of the month. Thanks," Harry said and sat back in his chair, looking down at his hands." </p>
<p>
  <em>"Anything else?" </em>
</p>
<p>"No, we're good," Louis snapped and picked up the phone, slamming it down onto the receiver. He got up and quickly stormed out of the room, clearly trying to hold himself back from yelling at Harry. Niall looked disgusted and followed him out. </p>
<p>Liam turned to Harry, clearly upset. "You want to tell me what the hell that was about?" </p>
<p>Harry twiddled his thumbs. "Um... I just think we're all being overworked. We all need a break." </p>
<p>"Speak for your fucking self," Liam scoffed and walked out of the room. </p>
<p>Harry finally met Zayn's eyes. "You okay?" Zayn asked, still somewhat mystified. </p>
<p>"Fine," Harry answered, but he looked unsure of himself suddenly. "You?" </p>
<p>"Yeah," Zayn nodded and Harry stood, heading for the door. </p>
<p>Zayn stayed where he was for a few minutes, looking down at his hands. He traced over his mandala tattoos on the back of his hand, thinking. He let himself imagine for a moment what it could be like if Harry actually managed to get them a break. He could leave without it being a huge story, without blacklisting him, without all of the bad headlines and drama, without losing Harry and his friendships... it was a really good plan. <em>Why didn't Harry tell me he was going to do that?</em></p>
<p>He walked out of the conference room and headed up to Harry's hotel room, hoping to talk to him before they had to be at the Band-Aid performance. He paused at Harry's door when he heard voices coming out of it. </p>
<p>"Where the fuck do you get off acting like you're above us and you're the one whose fucking in charge of us?" Louis' voice snapped.</p>
<p>Zayn walked into the room and paused when he saw everyone, glancing around. Louis was in Harry's face and Niall and Liam were stood back. His eyes landed on Harry, who was staring down at his shoes, and he frowned. "What's going on?" </p>
<p>"Nothing," Harry said quietly. </p>
<p>Zayn started to feel defensive and closed the door behind him, walking farther in. "Back off him, alright, Louis?" he said. "He's allowed an opinion." </p>
<p>"Not if it's going to fuck with the rest of us," Louis scoffed. </p>
<p>"I'm not trying to fuck anything up," Harry insisted. "I genuinely think we could all use a break." Zayn internally cringed; Harry was a bad liar. "I'm sorry." </p>
<p>"You don't get to make unilateral decisions about what to talk to management about," Louis snapped. </p>
<p>"I'm sorry," Harry sighed again. </p>
<p>"Back off," Zayn said again, moving to stand between Harry and Louis. "He apologized, yeah?" </p>
<p>"Zayn, it's fine," Harry muttered. </p>
<p>"Nah, maybe all of you should just get the fuck out," Zayn snapped and Louis glared at him. "All of you. Just... leave him the fuck alone." </p>
<p>"And there it fucking is," Niall scoffed. "You two, off in your own fucking world, while the rest of us try to pick up the pieces around you." </p>
<p>Zayn frowned. "What are you even talking about?" </p>
<p>"We need to stop having this conversation," Liam insisted, holding a hand out in an attempt to gain control of the room. "We can come back to it when everyone's calmed the fuck down," he said, hand clapping onto Louis' shoulder. "Let's go." </p>
<p>Louis scoffed and Niall turned around with them, shaking his head. "I mean, honestly, Harry. What the fuck are you trying to do?" he snapped before leaving the room, letting the door slam behind him. </p>
<p>Zayn turned to Harry, bewildered. "Babe, what the <em>fuck </em>did I just walk in on?"</p>
<p>Harry shook his head, clearly upset. "They're mad, it's nothing. I knew they would be." </p>
<p>"It does not mean they get to berate you," Zayn snapped and squeezed Harry's arm. "Are you okay?" </p>
<p>Harry shook himself, standing up straighter. "I'm fine," he nodded. "Come on, we're due downstairs in a few minutes." </p>
<p>"Harry," ayn watched him in concern but Harry just leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, heading towards the door. Zayn followed him with a sigh. </p>
<p>During the interview, Harry stuck to Zayn like glue, keeping an arm around him. The entire interview was off; everyone was uncomfortable, no matter how much they all tried to pretend not to be. If anything, Zayn wondered if this interview was proving Harry's point. There was no way anyone was going to use this footage because they were all exhausted, angry, and tensions were high. Harry left as soon as they were allowed to, and he asked Zayn not to follow him. </p>
<p>Zayn left Harry alone as long as he could, but he was worried. He knew Harry well enough to know that Harry hated upsetting people, and he constantly second-guessed his decisions when people were mad at him. He needed someone, even if he wanted to pretend like he didn't. Zayn went to his hotel room after dinner, even though Harry wasn't inclined to answer him. </p>
<p>"Harry," Zayn sighed, knocking against the door one more time. "Are you awake? Can I talk to you for a second?" </p>
<p>The door cracked open and Harry glanced him over. "I'm so tired, Zayn." </p>
<p>"I know," Zayn said quietly. "Can I come in for a minute? I'll leave, babe, I just... I just want to check on you. One minute?" </p>
<p>Harry opened the door and Zayn slipped through. He glanced around the room and eyed the bottle of tequila that was cracked open, which was Harry's sad drink. "What's up?" Harry sighed, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand.</p>
<p>"Are you okay?" Zayn eyed him, leaning back against the desk. </p>
<p>"Peachy," Harry muttered. </p>
<p>"Babe," Zayn sighed. "I know how you feel when people get angry with you. It's... they're not hearing you. All they heard was that you want to go off on your own, but I know-" Zayn swallowed. "I mean, I think... you're just trying to get us all a break, yeah?" </p>
<p>Harry nodded. "I think we need it. Don't you?" </p>
<p>Zayn nodded too. "Yeah." </p>
<p>"You mad at me, too?" Harry sighed, sitting down on the bed. </p>
<p>"No," Zayn shook his head and walked over to him. He tilted Harry's face up to look at him. "I should've backed you up in there, it just took me by surprise when you said it. I'm sorry." </p>
<p>"It's okay," Harry shook his head. "They'll, um... forgive me. Eventually. Right?" </p>
<p>"Yes," Zayn sighed, pressing a kiss into Harry's hair. "You didn't do anything wrong." He paused. "Did you do this for me?" he asked quietly. </p>
<p>Harry was silent for a moment. "I want a break, too," he said. "But... yes, I did." </p>
<p>Zayn let out a breath. "Oh, babe..." </p>
<p>"I want what you want," Harry insisted and Zayn closed his eyes. "You're not okay. I just... I needed to try something. They can't say no to me forever. We both know that they all need me. We'll get through this, me and you, like always, until they listen. I'm on your side." </p>
<p>Zayn rested his forehead against Harry's. "Thank you," he whispered. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The one at the AMAs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>winter 2014</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Harry </strong>
</p>
<p>Harry paced around his bedroom, looking at his phone. There was a single unread notification on it; a voicemail from Zayn. They'd been fighting back and forth for a few days, ever since they'd returned to L.A. for awards season. Harry had planned to spend the week they were in town with Zayn at his house, but Zayn had bailed last minute because Perrie showed up with the same intentions. Harry knew there was no reason for him to think that things would be different now, but they <em>felt</em> different. Tour had left him feeling like he was really Zayn's boyfriend; like he was owed Zayn's time. It was a slap in the face to realize that Zayn didn't belong to him at all. </p>
<p>Their last fight played over and over in his head. Zayn had come to see him while Perrie was out at a doctor's appointment. </p>
<p>"<em>I'm sorry," Zayn sighed. "You know how sorry I am, yeah?"</em></p>
<p>
  <em>"Stop fucking apologizing when you could just-" Harry cut himself off, distressed. He didn't want to say what was on the tip of his tongue; that if Zayn really wanted to leave her, he could. "I'm tired of second-guessing that I matter to you. You hold all of the power and I'm just here, hoping that you'll want me sometimes or that you'll choose me over her, which you never do." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I hold all of the power?" Zayn scoffed. "I don't hold shit. It's you who... you're all... Harry Styles and I'm just me and I forget that I'm not supposed to want you. I mean, fuck, Harry, all you have to do is snap your fingers-" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Me?" Harry protested. "Please, I get no fucking say in when I get to have you-" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"But you do get to have me because I can't ever fucking say no to you!" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Well..." Harry threw his hands up aimlessly. "Me fucking either." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Zayn stared at him helplessly. "I thought we were good, Haz, I thought you were over this." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I don't know," Harry put his face in his hands for a second. "I don't know. I'm good and then I'm not. I can't just turn off how I feel about you."</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Zayn frowned. "Who's asking you to?" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Harry <em>scoffed. "You. You're asking me to. You're asking me to not care when you're with her, like it doesn't make me sick to think about you with her. I don't know how to do that, so then I get mad and then I think..." he sighed. "I think that maybe we should just stop." </em></em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Zayn swallowed. "That's what you want?" </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>"No," Harry murmured and then closed his eyes. "I don't know. Maybe." The second that word came out of his mouth, Zayn was stalking out of the house, slamming the door behind him. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Harry felt awful about it. They were so past petty threats of rejection; he should have never said he wanted to leave. He knew how panicked he'd felt when Zayn had wanted to leave the band; he didn't want to make Zayn feel like that. He felt like their relationship of four years now was beyond the capacity to end; it wasn't simple enough for either of them to walk away from each other and he knew it. He was just so tired of being abandoned for <em>her</em> over and over again.</p>
<p>Zayn had been texting him nonstop after their fight; first apologizing for walking out, then begging Harry to talk to him. <em>I miss you baby... I need you... I want to be with you... I'm sorry</em>. He'd called a few times too, and Harry planned to call back when he was ready to talk. He knew he'd forgive Zayn. He always did. It was the never ending cycle that they seemed to be permanently stuck in. </p>
<p>He pressed on the voicemail with a sigh. </p>
<p>"<em>Babe, please answer your phone,</em>" Zayn sighed. "<em>Look... you know I want to be with you. You know that when it's up to me... I'll always choose you.</em>" Harry closed his eyes. "<em>I can't get through this shit tonight without you,</em>" he said. "<em>Call me, yeah?" </em></p>
<p>Harry took the phone away from his ear and held it against his chest, taking a deep breath. <em>He needs me tonight</em>. He knew what Zayn was facing when they hit the red carpet; interview after interview where he could be asked about the rumors that he was leaving the band. Harry knew that Zayn had only stayed this long for him, after he'd begged Zayn over and over again to stay until he could get them a real break. "Fuck," he sighed to himself. <em>I'll always choose you.</em> He bit his lip and a small part of him knew that he owed it to Zayn to help him get through. He glanced at the clock, checking to see how much they had before the event. <em>Probably just enough. </em></p>
<p>Harry dialed Caroline, their stylist. "Hey, Care," Harry sighed, hopeful that she was in a good mood. "Um... I know you hate when we make last minute requests but would you help me switch what I'm wearing tonight?" She chastised him for a moment before asking what he had in mind. Harry smiled. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <strong>Zayn </strong>
</p>
<p>Zayn paced around the outside of the event with Louis, smoking for as long as he had time. He was anxiously checking his phone for any word from Harry, irritated that nothing was coming through. He was worried that Harry would show up only to ignore him. The prospect of the interviews was daunting, and he'd feel better if he knew that Harry didn't currently hate him. </p>
<p>He looked up when he heard their security guard say into his Bluetooth that Harry was arriving and straightened as the car pulled around the curb. Harry stepped out and shook the guard's hand, and Zayn got a proper look at him. </p>
<p>
  <em>God damn him. </em>
</p>
<p>Zayn's heart began to thump wildly as Harry joined him and the rest of the boys at the start of the carpet. He looked unreal, dressed in a black and gold... <em>kurta</em>? Zayn bit back a moan, eyes raking over Harry's body. Harry's eyes were glinting lazily, like he could barely be bothered to be there, and he looked almost... royal. He didn't say much, nodding hello to everyone. When Harry's eyes met his, all of the air rushed out of his chest. Harry smirked at him. <em>Did he wear that for me</em>? After all of the recent drama surrounding him, Zayn felt like it would be okay if he stayed frozen in that moment for the rest of his life, drowning in green eyes. </p>
<p>Of course, Harry did look away from him, and when he did, Zayn felt that itch that had been sitting under the surface for the past few days, after Harry had asked for some space. Zayn needed him, and he needed him now. That kurta was a peace offering, it had to be. As they were moved through interviews, Zayn felt the tension between them thickening, more so every time they caught each other's eyes. He felt invisible cords tethering him to Harry's every move, like he could feel Harry's body against his even though he was a few feet away. </p>
<p>For the next half hour or so, Zayn could tell that Harry was doing his best to support him through the interviews, making faces at him here and there. Zayn was itching to rip that kurta off of him, and show him right there how much he appreciated it, but he could wait. When one of the interviewers asked him about whether or not he was leaving the band, he felt that anxiety rise up in his chest again, along with anger and irritability. He answered her as politely as he could, and thanked the heavens that Harry and Louis stepped in to defend him. The interview continued on, and Zayn felt Harry's hand brush over his hip and couldn't stop himself anymore. He turned to Harry as he spoke. "Any rappers on tonight?" he asked, staring at Harry's lips before daring to meet his eyes.</p>
<p>Harry blinked down at him with interest. He knew why Zayn had mentioned rap; he was no stranger to Zayn's anger over the dismissal of his contributions on their new album. Even when Liam began to answer his question, it took Zayn a second to drag his eyes away from Harry's, breathless. </p>
<p>He barely heard Chris as he directed them onto the red carpet and the flashes started going off in his face. Harry stood next to him, looking powerful, and Zayn wondered for a second when he'd gotten so tall and broad. He did his best to look casual as he bumped into Harry, and as he placed a hand on his lower back, fingers grazing Harry's hands that were folded behind him. </p>
<p>He moved his hand away and felt his heart skip a beat as Harry moved with him, knuckles brushing over his in the briefest of moments. He felt that instant rush of relief, that immediate dissolving of tension in his body as Harry subtly pushed the back of his hand against his. He felt that steady reminder of "<em>I'm here and you're okay" </em>that radiated off Harry at all times, even when they were mad at each other, and Zayn felt immensely grateful for it at that moment. He let out a deep breath, one he didn't even realize he was holding. He knew then; <em>we're on.</em></p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>Zayn was kissing Harry like his life depended on it the second they got back to his house. He felt like he couldn't get enough of Harry all at once, like he was going to die if Harry's hands weren't all over him <em>right now. </em>He hadn't been unable to think about anything else all night. Harry pushed him back against the wall, pulling his shirt out from where it was tucked into his jeans. </p>
<p>Harry took a step back to close the door and Zayn looked down at the kurta. He slid his fingers over the fabric. "Did you wear this for me, babe?" he whispered between heavy breaths. </p>
<p>Harry chuckled. "I thought it might help you get through the night."</p>
<p>Zayn grinned. "It did, you fucking tease." </p>
<p>A mischievous smile slipped over Harry's face. "That wasn't teasing," he protested, and reached down, sliding some of his fingers under Zayn's belt, as close to touching him as possible. Zayn groaned, chasing after Harry's lips. "I know how to tease you." </p>
<p>Zayn smirked and slid his hand over Harry's thigh, stopping just before he could touch him. "So do I," he murmured and Harry grinned and kissed him before dropping to his knees. Harry swallowed him whole right away and Zayn's knees buckled as he struggled to hold himself up, throwing his head back. It slammed against the wall but he didn't care, much more preoccupied with the insane pleasure than the pain. He wasn't going to last long and Harry could tell. He pulled off and asked, "Do you want to finish on the kurta?" Zayn groaned and Harry smirked; he actually fucking <em>smirked, </em>and ran his hands over Zayn's thighs before taking him in his mouth again. </p>
<p>Zayn pushed Harry onto the floor, climbed on top of him and finished him with his hand. They both ended up lying next to each other on their backs in the entryway, trying to catch their breath. "There's no way I can give this back to Caroline," Harry plucked at the kurta and Zayn laughed, leaning over to kiss him. </p>
<p>"This mean you forgive me?" Zayn murmured. </p>
<p>Harry nodded. "You forgive me?" </p>
<p>"'Course." Zayn reached down, taking Harry's hand in his. "Can I tell you something?" Zayn asked. He really should have told Harry this right away, but they'd been fighting when it happened. Harry turned to him. "I know you were mad that Pez was here," he began and Harry glanced away, looking up at the ceiling. "We ended up talking for a while." </p>
<p>Harry cleared his throat. "Yeah?" </p>
<p>"Yeah. She got a lot of stuff off her chest," Zayn sighed. "So did I." </p>
<p>"Why are you telling me this?" Harry asked coldly.</p>
<p>Zayn swallowed, trying to settle his nerves before breaking the news. "I told her I thought we should take a break." </p>
<p>Harry froze and didn't look at him for a long moment, continuing to stare at the ceiling. "Really?"</p>
<p>Zayn sat up and tilted Harry's face over. "Really," he said clearly. "I don't think I'll be seeing her for a while. I told her, uhm... I don't want to be engaged anymore." </p>
<p>Harry eyed him. "Why?" </p>
<p><em>You. </em>Zayn kissed Harry for a long moment before laying back down beside him. Harry turned his head, bumping their noses together. "I thought you'd be happy," Zayn said cautiously. "Means I get to spend more time with you." </p>
<p>Harry kissed him gently. "I am happy. Being with you makes me happy." </p>
<p>Zayn smiled. "Good." </p>
<p>Harry bit his lip and then climbed on top of him, kissing him heatedly. Zayn grinned, slipping his hands into Harry's hair. He knew Harry would take the news well. "Come upstairs," he whispered and Zayn grinned, letting Harry haul him to his feet. </p>
<p>Harry cooked them a bite to eat when they were done, and Zayn actually felt like he could stomach it for the first time in a long time. Harry didn't bother to change and Zayn definitely didn't mind watching him walk around naked, obsessed with how Harry's body looked in the low light. </p>
<p>"You looked like a king tonight," Zayn murmured when Harry sat down beside him after putting their plates away. "Like you owned that room and everything in it." </p>
<p>"So did you," Harry smirked, kissing Zayn's cheek. </p>
<p>"No," Zayn chuckled. "No, I looked good, but you..." he sighed, eyes moving over Harry's face. "You looked..." He felt at a loss for words and decided to kiss Harry instead, pulling him a little closer. Harry happily kissed him back, sighing against him. </p>
<p>"I can't believe you wore a fucking kurta," Zayn chuckled and Harry grinned. "How did you even know about that, babe?"</p>
<p>"I saw a picture of you in one, once," Harry admitted. "When you went to see your family for Eid. I looked it up, just so I'd know." </p>
<p>Zayn eyed him. "Why?" </p>
<p>"'Cause I always want to know everything about you," Harry murmured and kissed him again. Zayn smiled. "I don't know why I thought it'd make you happy, I just took a wild guess." </p>
<p>Zayn stared at Harry for a moment, taking him in. This completely ridiculous boy who had suddenly turned into a man, and knew Zayn better than anyone, was laying next to him and doing everything he could to make Zayn smile. He never felt luckier or more grateful in his entire life. </p>
<p>Zayn pushed his lips against Harry's neck, burying his face in it. Harry wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. His lips grazed over the skin under Harry's ear. "I love you," he whispered. </p>
<p>He paused as Harry flinched underneath him, as if the words affected his entire body. His own heart hammered in his chest; he had no idea how Harry was going to react. He was just so tired of stopping himself when he wanted to say it. Harry turned his head and Zayn lifted his so that their eyes could meet. "You do?" Harry asked quietly. </p>
<p>Zayn lifted his hand so he could settle it on Harry's face, running his thumb across Harry's cheek. He moved a little closer, their noses pressing together. "Always have," he said and wished it had come out sounding less shaky. "That's why I can't be with her anymore. It's you, babe. Always." </p>
<p>Harry leaned in to kiss him and Zayn was grateful. It would give them both a chance to settle their minds and it reassured Zayn that Harry wasn't mad. He turned his body into Zayn's, wrapping his arm around his waist. Zayn's fingers tangled into Harry's hair, hauling him as close as possible. </p>
<p>Harry pulled back from the kiss, eyeing him. "I love you too," he said and it knocked the wind out of Zayn for a moment. He hadn't really said it in the hope that Harry would say it back to him. But there it was. It was out there. They'd both said it, and Zayn knew how long he'd been trying not to, and wondered if Harry had been keeping it in that long as well. Harry's lips brushed over his. "Always have." </p>
<p>"Yeah?" Zayn smiled at him. </p>
<p>Harry smiled back at him and rolled on top of Zayn, pushing him into the mattress and kissing him some more. Their third round of sex that night was nothing less than pure, intoxicating ecstasy, and left Zayn wishing they would never have to leave that bed. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. The one when Zayn leaves (pt 1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>early march 2015 </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Harry </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Can you come over? </em>
</p>
<p>Harry stared at the text, thumbs hovering over the screen. It had come in five minutes ago from Zayn. He paced slowly around his hotel room, trying to decide what to do. </p>
<p>If you don't want to, its ok</p>
<p>Harry groaned irritably, rubbing his eyes. Zayn had obviously been off all night during the show. Nobody else seemed to notice, but every moment that he'd been off of the cameras, he'd looked ready to collapse. It was bad; he was losing weight again and Harry could tell. </p>
<p>The last time he'd really spoken to Zayn alone was three weeks ago. Perrie had shown up on Valentine's Day and Zayn had been forced to ditch him, even after they made plans. They'd been in a silent fight since then. </p>
<p>Harry had been under the impression that Zayn wasn't even speaking to her. Apparently, being on a break meant different things to all three of them. It only took a month for Perrie to get the ring back on her finger. Zayn had written him a note to explain how much pressure he was under, both from her and her family, to stay with her, and Harry did his best to understand. And he <em>did</em> understand. He knew Zayn's family well enough to know that Zayn announcing his decision to break up with his fiancee for his male lover would go really, really badly. But as much as he tried to be empathetic of that, it didn't make him feel any better. If anything, it made him feel a thousand times worse. </p>
<p>But Zayn wasn't okay. <em>Again</em>. Over their winter break, he'd gotten healthy after being home, and they'd spent a week together in the Alps and the future was looking bright and shiny again. Once the new tour started, Ben dropped the news to Harry that any chance of them getting a break from the band would be ages away. Zayn shut down a little after that, and talked non-stop about when and how he was going to leave. Things got more and more tense between them and everyone else. Harry didn't feel good about this, but when Perrie showed up again, he snapped. </p>
<p>As much as Harry loved him, he was also starting to hate Zayn for doing this to him. He knew Zayn felt the same way. They were forever stuck together in a cycle of fighting and making up because they needed each other too much. And even though picturing Zayn with<em> her</em> made Harry progressively more sick, the tension between them had always felt worse. That's why he always gave in. </p>
<p>Harry glanced back down at his phone. </p>
<p><em>I want to. Be there soon.</em> </p>
<p>He tried to settle his anxieties as he walked down the hallway to Zayn's door. When he knocked, it swung open immediately. </p>
<p>Harry's eyes fell to Zayn's wrist, which was adorned with a silver bangle. Harry had given it to him for Christmas a year or two into the band being formed. He had no idea that Zayn even still had it until Valentine's Day, when Zayn gifted him a matching one. Unfortunately, Harry could barely look at him at the time, and certainly couldn't stomach wearing matching jewelry again. But while Zayn was trying to win him over, he'd started wearing it again, swearing to Harry that he would keep it on until he was forgiven. Harry had left his own bracelet in the box in his suitcase since then, untouched. </p>
<p>"Hey," he said, walking into the room and locking the door behind him. Awkward silence filled the space between them immediately. "What's... um... what's up?" </p>
<p>Zayn shrugged, looking down at his feet. "Just wanted to see you." </p>
<p>"Why?" </p>
<p>Zayn scoffed a little. "I can't want to see my boyfriend?" </p>
<p>The angry words came spilling out of Harry before he could stop them. "Is that what I am?" </p>
<p>"Haz," Zayn let out a sigh and walked over, putting his arms over Harry's neck. "Can you just... please...?" </p>
<p>It was unreal the effect that soft 'please' had on him. Harry touched his forehead to Zayn's and let his hands slide over Zayn's tiny hips. "Okay. I'm sorry." </p>
<p>Zayn kissed him, pulling him towards the bed. Harry knew in the back of his mind that they should stop and talk things through, but in truth, this was the only way he knew how to make Zayn feel better. And it felt way too good to be holding Zayn like this, after weeks of nothing, to stop. It felt incredible to be with him, like always, but it was hard to feel in the moment when Harry could feel Zayn's hip bone jutting out again and had to try not to get upset about it. </p>
<p>Zayn laid halfway on top of him after, nose pressed against his neck. Harry stroked a hand over Zayn's back and bit his lip. "Hey," he murmured and Zayn lifted his head lazily. "What's going on with you?" </p>
<p>Zayn withdrew a little, avoiding his gaze. Harry held him in place, squeezing his waist tightly. "What's wrong?" </p>
<p>"Everything," Zayn grumbled, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. "Fucking everything, Haz." </p>
<p>"Tell me." </p>
<p>"I... I can't," Zayn shook his head. </p>
<p>"Yes, you can," Harry urged him. "I won't listen as the bitter, jealous whiner that I've been lately, I promise." </p>
<p>Zayn gave him a look. "Don't talk about yourself like that," he sighed. "I get why you're mad at me, I really do. I just..." </p>
<p>"It's okay," Harry interrupted him. "Look, yeah, I've been upset, but I love you and I still want to take care of you." </p>
<p>Zayn looked at him for a long moment and then shook his head, laying it back down on his shoulder. "I'm tired, babe," he sighed. "Let's just talk in the morning." </p>
<p>Harry stifled a sigh of disappointment and wrapped his arms around Zayn, letting his eyes close. When the morning came, he pressed the subject again, and Zayn finally spilled everything. He'd panicked after their winter break because Perrie had threatened to leave him for good and make a bunch of headlines out of it if they didn't get back together. It scared the hell out of him to disappoint his family and it scared him to think of being without any girl at all. He explained that it wasn't necessarily because he loved her, as fucked up as it all sounded, but... well, he was really able to get the words out, but what Harry gathered was that it scared the hell out of him to commit only to a man. He talked about how all of the shows were blurring into one, and he didn't give a shit about music anymore, which was scary. Harry kept his mouth shut besides a few words of encouragement as Zayn let it all out, trying to keep his own feelings separate. The last thing he heard before his ears started ringing was that Zayn was planning to leave within the month. </p>
<p><em>One month?</em> On tour, one month could feel like nothing. It flew by in an endless stream of show after show. He felt panicked, because <em>that can't be all we have left</em>. They had to have more. The second Zayn left was the second their relationship would be over. It'd have to be. He found it willfully dishonest to pretend it could go any other way. Zayn kept talking, trying to explain, but Harry felt like he couldn't breathe. When Zayn rested a hand on his shoulder to snap him out of it, Harry flinched at his touch and stood, running out of the room. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <em>that night</em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Zayn </b>
</p>
<p>Zayn watched Harry from outside the hotel gym for a long moment, standing in front of the door. Harry was upset, clearly, and Zayn didn't now what to do about it. Harry hadn't even looked at him since that morning and the only thing Zayn wanted in the world was to be at peace in his arms while they still had time, but he didn't know if there was any way to fix this. Harry didn't want him to go, Zayn didn't want to stay, and that was just the bottom line. </p>
<p>They were supposed to meet hours ago for dinner; Harry had finally agreed to come after Zayn's twentieth text, but he never showed. Now, in the middle of the night, he watched Harry hit the punching bag over and over again, until his hits started to lose their methodical control and he was just slamming into it, pushing it back way farther that it was supposed to go. He walked in just as Harry hit it so hard that it collided into the weights that were stacked on the wall behind it, and Harry stumbled in surprise, dodging it as it swung back. </p>
<p>"Hazza," Zayn called out of him, walking over. Harry glanced at him as he tightened his hand wraps. "Maybe you should take a break, babe." </p>
<p>Harry shook his head, turning back to the bag. Before he could start again, Zayn gently slid his hands over the small over Harry's back, pulling him away and turning Harry towards him. "You don't have any idea how late it is, do you?"</p>
<p>"No," Harry admitted with a sigh. </p>
<p>Zayn cupped Harry's cheek in one hand and leaned up to kiss the other. "Let me love you tonight," he murmured against it. "I'll make you feel better." </p>
<p>Harry sighed in his ear and took a step back and took a step back, turning away coldly. "I'll come find you later, okay?" </p>
<p>Zayn crossed his arms. "We were supposed to meet hours ago. It's two in the morning. Come to bed." </p>
<p>"Later," Harry shrugged, turning back towards the bag. </p>
<p>Zayn clenched his jaw. "Haz, come on. You said we could-" </p>
<p>"I know what I said!" Harry snapped back at him. Zayn shut his mouth and Harry threw a hard punch at the bag before sitting down on the bench beside it, looking down at his hands. "Sorry... I'm sorry." </p>
<p>Zayn walked over slowly and sat beside him, touching his knee. "You want to just tell me what the fuck you're thinking instead of..." he sighed. "Instead of doing all this shit, babe?" </p>
<p>Harry bit down on his lip and took a deep breath. "You can't go," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You can't." </p>
<p>Zayn raised an eyebrow. "No offense, Haz, but fuck that, '<em>I can't</em>'," he said. "I can do what I want." </p>
<p>"So this is... what?" Harry scoffed. "Some kind of teenage rebellion fantasy you're trying to live out?" </p>
<p>"Don't belittle me," Zayn snapped and took a deep breath. "I can't do this anymore. I don't fucking belong here." </p>
<p>"Yes, you do," Harry argued. "You're a part of the band. Thousands of people scream your name every night. Of course you belong here." </p>
<p>Zayn rubbed his forehead. "It's so <em>beyond</em> that.  Chris and Simon and everyone make it perfectly clear that I'm not welcome here. You don't see it because you're the one that they need, so they make you happy. One Direction would be nothing if they lost you, and everyone knows it." Harry glanced away at that. Zayn knew that saying those things made Harry massively uncomfortable, but it was just the truth and he needed to hear it. "But for me... I mean, fuck, Harry... they don't give a shit about me. They don't care about making music that I want to make, and I'm so sick of it. I've explained this to you a million times in a million ways." Harry didn't say anything. "Can you give me one fucking good reason why I should put up with this for... who knows how long? One good reason why I should stay?" </p>
<p>"<em>Me</em>," Harry said emphatically and Zayn's face fell. Harry stood up, getting ready to pace. "Stay for me." </p>
<p>Zayn groaned and put his face in his hands. "Harry..." </p>
<p>"After all of this, after everything, I deserve to be involved in this decision," Harry carried on. "Have you even thought about what it'll do to me if you leave?" </p>
<p>"Of course I have," Zayn stood up too, offended that Harry thought he hadn't. "You're... you're Harry Styles, all right? You'll be fine. Everyone else will be looking after you until you can come back to me." </p>
<p>"And how exactly do you see that happening?" Harry demanded. "You and me, trying to be together, when we're going to end up worlds apart?" </p>
<p>"I don't know, I haven't... exactly... worked everything out yet," Zayn stammered. "I don't have all of the answers to everything." </p>
<p>"You let me know when you figure that out then," Harry scoffed. </p>
<p>"Did you even listen to all of the shit I just said? You're not going to make me feel like an asshole for wanting this," Zayn snapped. "I'm not a bad person for wanting to make my own decisions." </p>
<p>"I don't want to make you feel bad," Harry shook his head, clearly getting more and more upset as he paced around. "I just... I <em>need</em> you here with me. You... you fucking pull me out of fires," he said, voice strained and Zayn paused. "You're like... my knight in shining armor or whatever. I need you, but I know you don't need me, you never have." Zayn frowned, starting to feel a little worried. "You always say and do the right thing and you aren't a flailing mess like me. You don't need me because you don't need to be saved, but I do. You save me over and over again and I need you to keep doing it so I just... I need you to stay." Harry was talking really fast, which was scary because he only did that when he was really worked up. "<em>Please.</em> I know I'm being selfish, I just... fuck- you can't-" </p>
<p>Zayn rushed forward and put his arms over Harry's shoulders, hugging him hard. It took Harry a second but he wrapped his arms over Zayn's waist, holding him so tight it almost hurt. "Stop, babe, stop," Zayn whispered quietly and pressed his lips against Harry's cheek. His skin was wet; <em>he's crying</em>. They stayed in place like that for a long moment, and Zayn racked his brain for what to say next. The bottom line was that he didn't want to stay. Not for anyone. For Harry? <em>Maybe</em>. "I know you think I'm not still gonna be there for you, but I am. I always am. I'm right here." </p>
<p>He eventually got Harry to agree to come back up to his hotel room and set out for some food. Harry didn't feel like talking much anymore, but he'd said enough to make Zayn worried. Of course he'd thought about what would happen between him and Harry before he left, but that was the first time he'd ever seen Harry so broken up over it. The last thing he <em>ever </em>wanted to do was hurt Harry. But at this point... it could be a necessary evil.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. The one when Zayn leaves (pt 2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>one week later (March 13th) </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Zayn </b>
</p>
<p>Zayn cursed under his breath when he got Harry's voicemail again. "Haz," he sighed impatiently. "This is like... the fifth time I've called you and I'm still wondering where you are. Call me back, you dick," he muttered and tossed his phone on his bed irritably. He and Harry had another fight earlier and although Harry had promised he was over it, he'd been impossible to track down since then.</p>
<p>Zayn had been waiting for Harry to show up at his hotel room for hours. He didn't like this; waiting around like some wife trying to find her cheating husband. That's not what they were; they didn't do this. But Harry was out with Niall, Luke, and their band, who were always trying to set him up with loose women at the bar. They had a day off tomorrow with only a plane ride in the evening, so everyone was in better spirits and they'd convinced Harry to go out drinking. Harry had been so mad at him lately that Zayn wasn't sure he wouldn't end up with some local woman or traveling model. In the logical part of his mind, he knew that Harry could do what he wanted. He had no right to get upset if Harry wanted to be with a woman instead of him. But the logical part of his mind wasn't exactly winning at the moment. In fact, the logical part of his mind was failing him frequently these days as anxiety set in further and further.</p>
<p>He stayed up all night, fuming when Harry never showed. His mind wandered to all sorts of horrible places, picturing Harry with this person or that, or more than one. He tried not to let the mental images make him sick, but he was failing. He finally passed out with a blunt in his hand around six in the morning. He woke up around noon with a missed call and a voicemail from Harry just after he'd fallen asleep. "<em>Hey... Baby, I'm sorry, I just got back to my room and plugged my phone in</em>," Harry said. "<em>M'sorry I didn't show, I guess you're asleep... I don't even know what time it is</em>," he chuckled and Zayn set his jaw, irritated. "<em>I'm sorry my phone died..</em>." He sounded still drunk. "<em>Call me. I love you, baby, I'm so sorry, don't be mad.</em>"</p>
<p>Zayn sighed and grabbed a smoke, deciding to call Harry back later. He was in no forgiving mood, especially not before having his first cigarette. He scrolled Twitter, glancing through the influx of fan pictures of Niall and Harry at the club. Harry looked like he blacked out, and Zayn wondered if he even remembered what happened. "Jackass," he muttered, but he was starting to lighten up. He knew Harry probably had every intention of coming to meet him last night, but Niall was probably feeding him drinks and convincing him to stay longer and longer.</p>
<p>He sat up as he came across a picture of Niall and Luke with three girls, grinning in front of the bar. He squinted when he saw Harry in the background, leaning up against the bar. He was talking with another guy, so close that they were almost nose-to-nose.</p>
<p>Zayn felt a flash of anger and called Harry immediately, standing up to pace. Is that why he'd gotten blown off last night? Did Harry end up with that guy instead of him? A flurry of panicked thoughts hit him and as irrational as they were, he became so livid that he started shaking. He launched his phone across the room when he got Harry's voicemail again. Anxiety rose like a wave and he sank down onto his bed, trying to relax. He didn't even know if anything happened, but he couldn't turn down the thoughts. That's how it always felt lately; like he had no control over his nerves. Half of the time when Harry didn't answer his phone, Zayn was worried that he was dead in a ditch somewhere. It'd become impossible to settle down once he'd gotten started.</p>
<p>Finally, his phone started buzzing and he went to pick it up, sighing when he saw it was Harry. He answered.</p>
<p>
  <em>"Zayn? You there?" </em>
</p>
<p>"Yeah," Zayn grumbled.</p>
<p>
  <em>"I'm so sorry about last night, I didn't-"</em>
</p>
<p>"Will you just come here?" Zayn sighed. "Please?"</p>
<p>Harry paused. "<em>Yeah, course</em>," he said. "<em>I'll be there in a minute</em>." There was a second of silence. "<em>You alright?</em>"</p>
<p>"Fine," Zayn muttered and hung up.</p>
<p>When Harry arrived a moment later, the tension between them hit immediately. Harry closed the door, eyeing Zayn peculiarly. "Morning," he said.</p>
<p>"It's one in the afternoon," Zayn commented, sitting back down on the bed.</p>
<p>"Right, yeah, last night was crazy," Harry chuckled awkwardly and Zayn started fuming. Harry walked over to him, standing over him. "Look, um... I am really sorry, I know you hate it when I don't show."</p>
<p>"Why didn't you?" Zayn asked.</p>
<p>"You know how it is, I got a little more drunk than I meant to, and Niall and Luke wanted me to stay out. I was going to call, but my phone died-"</p>
<p>"And you were mad at me," Zayn interrupted him and Harry frowned. "I know you were pissed last night before you went out."</p>
<p>Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Well, yeah, but... what does that have to do with-"</p>
<p>"What about that guy you were talking to, then?"</p>
<p>Harry stared at him in surprise. "What guy?" Zayn pulled up the picture on his phone and tossed it to Harry. Harry looked it over and then raised an eyebrow. "You serious?"</p>
<p>"Why were you talking to him close?" Zayn asked.</p>
<p>"You're nuts," Harry scoffed, setting Zayn's phone on the night table.</p>
<p>"Tell me what happened last night," Zayn demanded. "Where the fuck were you? Why didn't you come over?"</p>
<p>"I just told you," Harry argued. "The guys convinced me to stay out longer and I lost track of time because my phone was off."</p>
<p>"Is that all you did?" Zayn asked.</p>
<p>Harry squinted at him. "What are you really trying to ask me, Zayn? Out with it already."</p>
<p>"Fine," Zayn huffed. "Did you ditch me to hook up with that guy in the photo because you were pissed?"</p>
<p>Harry stared at him for a long moment. "Zayn, I don't even know that guy's <em>name</em>. What the fuck...?"</p>
<p>"Did you?"</p>
<p>"You know..." Harry scoffed. "Why shouldn't I have?" Zayn's stomach turned.</p>
<p>"Haz," Zayn said through clenched teeth, warning him he was going too far.</p>
<p>"You go off and sleep with her whenever you want, so why shouldn't I have someone else? Besides, you wouldn't care if it was a girl."</p>
<p>"Harry," Zayn snapped, losing his patience. "Just tell me you did not fuck that guy."</p>
<p>Harry set his jaw. "Of course I didn't." Zayn let out a breath of relief. It didn't last. "But I should've. I wish I did."</p>
<p>"Fuck you," Zayn snapped and stalked out onto the balcony, slamming the door behind him. He paced back and forth, well aware that Harry was doing the same thing on the other side of the wall. <em>"I wish I did."</em> Zayn sank down against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest.</p>
<p>Harry was the one to break ten minutes later. He came out and sat across from Zayn, crossing his legs and eyeing him. "I didn't want him. He came up to me, and I pushed him off when he got too close. Nothing happened," he said quietly, and Zayn sighed. Harry rubbed his eyes. "I only said that to make you mad. I'm sorry."</p>
<p>Zayn wiped a hand over his face. "Why?" Harry shrugged and Zayn grew irritated again. "Why you trying to make me mad? Cause it's fucking working."</p>
<p>Harry took a deep breath. "I don't know."</p>
<p>"This up and down thing that we're doing right now, Haz..." Zayn murmured. "I mean, this isn't good."</p>
<p>"I know," Harry's eyes fell, and he fidgeted with his rings. "I don't want you to leave me."</p>
<p>"You're doing a really shit job at convincing me you want me to stay," Zayn grumbled and Harry sighed. "I've told you a hundred times, babe, I don't want to leave you, either," Zayn insisted. "I'll still be yours. We just have to be apart for a little while."</p>
<p>"When have you ever been mine?" Harry said coldly and Zayn frowned. "Never. You have always been hers. And you'll go off and she'll be there and I won't and you'll fucking marry her and you won't tell me."</p>
<p>That hurt. Zayn pressed his lips together in a thin line. "That's really what you think of me?"</p>
<p>"What else am I supposed to think?" Harry argued. He sounded defeated, like he knew nothing he could say would get Zayn to stay. The trouble was, he was right. <em>There's no way I'm staying</em>. "I need you."</p>
<p>"I need you, too," Zayn insisted. "Maybe I don't need a knight in shining... whatever," he sighed and Harry cracked the smallest smile. "But I do need <em>you</em>. I need you to be on my side when I do this. Please."</p>
<p>"You promised me a million times that we would do it together, when the time was right," Harry said and Zayn rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>"You've got to get your head out of the fucking clouds, Haz," Zayn groaned. "There's never going to be a right time. They're never going to let us out of this in a good way, you understand that, yeah?"</p>
<p>"But there's got to be a better way than this," Harry argued.</p>
<p>Zayn knew he was right. There probably was a better way, in the future, but they had no idea how long that would be from now. He couldn't wait for that anymore. Harry had no idea the extent of what he was asking.</p>
<p>"What if I just... took a little break?" Zayn asked and Harry raised an eyebrow. "I could come back. I just need to be home for a little bit," he reasoned. "I'll see Mum, I'll eat, I'll sleep, and I'll come back for you. I promise."</p>
<p>Harry eyed him. "I don't want you to say anything you don't mean," he said carefully.</p>
<p>Zayn took Harry's hand to hold in his lap. "I do mean it," he said, and he did, at the time. "I want to leave everything else, but not you. I need to have you, babe, okay? I'll come back for you," he repeated.</p>
<p>Harry nodded after a moment. "I want you to feel better," he sighed. "If going home will make you feel better, then... yeah. I'll cover your parts, and... the fans will forgive you, of course they will, and so will the boys. They love you so much."</p>
<p>Zayn squeezed Harry's hand, leaning over. "Are <em>you</em> still going to love me? I don't care about the rest of it."</p>
<p>Harry frowned. "Zayn..."</p>
<p>"I don't," Zayn insisted. "Say you're still going to love me."</p>
<p>"Of course I'm still going to love you," Harry murmured.</p>
<p>Zayn smiled as Harry leaned over to kiss him, and he grabbed Harry's face in his hands to keep him close. "Say it again," Zayn murmured.</p>
<p>Harry smiled. "I love you."</p>
<p>Zayn sighed. "I'm sorry, too, babe," he murmured, setting his forehead to Harry's. "I'm so sorry I accused you of going off with that guy. I know you better than that."</p>
<p>Harry rubbed his back gently. "It's okay."</p>
<p>Zayn shook his head. "It's not. I'm just... everything is so fucked in my head right now, Haz..."</p>
<p>"I know." Harry gave his waist a squeeze. "Me too." He smiled a little and snatched Zayn onto his lap, falling back against the ground. Zayn grinned and fell on top of him, and kissed him for a long time. "You forgive me?" Harry murmured.</p>
<p>"Course," Zayn mumbled, kissing him again. "C'mon, babe, we've got the afternoon. The bed's callin' my name."</p>
<p>Harry grinned. "Let's go."</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <b>Harry</b>
</p>
<p>Harry closed his eyes as Zayn came back in from the balcony. He didn't feel like talking anymore. He hoped Zayn would just think he'd dozed off.</p>
<p>"Haz," Zayn said quietly, sitting on the bed beside him. "Haaazzaaa." Harry didn't answer. A moment later, he felt Zayn lean over him and facial hair tickled his bare shoulder. "I've been sleeping in the same bed as you for years. I know you're faking." Harry sighed and cracked an eye open. Zayn pressed a kiss to his temple. "Come on, babe. Don't shut me out."</p>
<p>"Sorry," Harry murmured and rolled over. Zayn laid beside him, face to face. Zayn was watching him, clearly deep in thought, and Harry held his gaze steadily, waiting for him to speak.</p>
<p>"Sometimes I wish we never got famous, yeah?" Zayn sighed eventually. "That my mum never got me out of bed to audition and I'd be just chilling right now, finishing up uni and all."</p>
<p>"I don't," Harry said. "I never would've met you."</p>
<p>"I don't know about that," Zayn disagreed. "You know... in the million different versions of my life that I think about these days... you're always there. In all of 'em."</p>
<p>Harry eyed him. "How do we meet?" he asked and Zayn raised an eyebrow. "In your other lives? If we were in uni right now."</p>
<p>Zayn smiled a little and bit his lip. "I think... maybe in class. Or at a party. Probably one that you'd throw, cause I always think of you as throwing the parties," he chuckled.</p>
<p>Harry let himself imagine it; spotting Zayn on campus and wanting him. Planning a party just to invite the good-looking boy in English class and get a chance to kiss him. "Would you come up to me?"</p>
<p>Zayn smiled. "Nah, I think you'd probably have to be the one to come up and talk to me."</p>
<p>"I would in a heartbeat," Harry said and Zayn grinned. "Am I your boyfriend?"</p>
<p>Zayn thought that over. "Um... yeah," he murmured. "I think you would be."</p>
<p>"Where else do you picture us?"</p>
<p>Zayn lifted his hand to run through Harry's hair and let it settle on his neck. "Sometimes I think if we didn't audition, I might've found my way into a little bakery in Cheshire," he chuckled. "You think you would've liked me?"</p>
<p>"Definitely," Harry smiled. "I think I would've been all over you, making you taste the specials and bragging about how I helped you make some of the bread," he said and Zayn huffed out a laugh. "I might've even annoyed you."</p>
<p>"No," Zayn smirked. "You've always been too gorgeous to annoy me."</p>
<p>"Yeah, sure," Harry snorted and Zayn grinned. Harry glanced down at Zayn's lips before asking: "Are we ever married? In your other lives?"</p>
<p>Zayn was quiet for a long moment. "Yeah," he murmured. "Sometimes... we're in a flat and we both go to 9-5s and I cook for you when I get home. Sometimes we're in a big house, with a big backyard and a high wall that you let me paint on."</p>
<p>"Kids?" Harry asked.</p>
<p>"Loads."</p>
<p>Harry slipped his hand over Zayn's waist and under his shirt, stroking the base of his spine. "We could have that," he said quietly. "Some day, maybe."</p>
<p>"You genuinely think so?"</p>
<p>"I don't know."</p>
<p>"Me either," Zayn murmured and stroked his thumb over Harry's jaw. "I don't know how I'll ever walk away from you. Even if I walk away from everything and everyone else... you'll stay with me. Doesn't matter who else comes along. It'll be you."</p>
<p>"Me too," Harry murmured back. "I love you."</p>
<p>Zayn smiled. "I love you, too, Haz. A fucking lot. That's never going to change." He ran his hand through Harry's hair again, pushing it away from his face. "If we had never auditioned, I think... divine intervention would've kicked in and I would've found you anyway."</p>
<p>Harry raised an eyebrow. "Divine intervention?"</p>
<p>"Yeah," Zayn nodded. "We're meant to be, you know. In the stars and all. I was always going to find you, somehow, some way. Don't you think?"</p>
<p>Harry smiled. "Yeah, I do."</p>
<p>In the following weeks, everything fell apart, no matter how much they loved each other. Fighting went too far, management hounded them down, late night drinking and smoking confused them and ended in angry nights spent alone. After the cheating scandal, Zayn rushed home to Perrie, and Harry didn't sleep for two days, drowning in tequila. On the night of March 24th, Zayn called him in tears and told him that he couldn't do it anymore. Harry tried to reach deep, deep inside of himself to be okay with it, but he couldn't. He felt completely abandoned. He found it in himself to tell Zayn that everything was going to be okay. He wished him well in his new life, hung up, and threw his phone off of the balcony. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. The one where the song leaks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>***From the author: Sorry for the long delays in updates. I've been buried in school work this semester and I'm hoping to get back to it after finals. I am still writing the story, but feeling somewhat uninspired because it's hard to know where Zarry stand with each other right now. The story will go through to H's tour and their reunion in 2019. I'm waiting on Z3 (or literally any word from Zayn) before making any judgment about 2020/the baby situation and how it impacted their relationship, but I'm seriously wishing them the best!*** </em>
</p><p>
  <em>early april 2015 </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Niall</b>
</p><p>"Is he fucking mental?" Louis fumed, storming around in circles in their studio. Niall watched him wearily as he paced, exchanging a glance with Liam. "It's barely been a week." </p><p>"I guess we don't know for sure what happened yet," Niall said cautiously in Zayn's defense and Louis shot him such an angry glare that he just decided to shut up. Liam looked pissed, too, but he was internalizing it as usual, staring daggers into his phone and staying quiet. </p><p>A song called "<em>I Won't Mind</em>" was just leaked by Zayn's new producer, in response to Louis' public griping about Zayn venturing out on his own. The problem was that Zayn's management was claiming that the song was a reject from their last album, and that just wasn't true. None of them had ever heard it before. </p><p>Niall was as mad at Zayn as any of the rest of them. He felt somewhat abandoned and he was worried about what would happen to their band. He felt like Zayn was being heartless, but he was trying not to get too emotional about it. He was trying to keep his feelings in check, because he could tell Harry was struggling. </p><p>He hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He had been trying to get Harry to go out drinking with him to blow off steam ever since Zayn went home, but Harry had turned him down every time. The night before they found out Zayn left the band, he passed by Harry's hotel room on his way back from the bar around two in the morning. The door was cracked. He knocked, and taken a step in only to hear Harry trying to talk through his tears out on his balcony. He was talking to Zayn. </p><p>Niall knew he should've left, but he wanted to stay in case Harry tried to do anything crazy. He tried not to listen to the specifics. He could barely understand Zayn on the other end on the line, who was crying so hard that his accent was basically unintelligible. Niall only stayed until he heard Harry hang up, and he texted Paul, asking him to post someone outside of Harry's door and listen for anything that sounded emergent. </p><p>Since then, he decided to take it easy on Harry. He'd basically ignored the lad ever since he'd asked for a break back in November, but Zayn leaving pretty much explained that one. He guessed that Harry had been trying to prevent that all along. Harry would never really let any of them see how sad he was, but Niall suspected that it was bad. Harry was in charge of covering Zayn's parts on tour, but on March 25th, he had stepped away from the mic during soundcheck, and quietly said that he couldn't do it. The rest of them had wordlessly agreed to step in. </p><p>Harry turned into the studio and sat down at some point during Louis' long-winded rant, leaning back against the doorframe. Niall watched him out of the corner of his eye and suddenly realized who the subject of Zayn's song was. He didn't think his heart could break any more for Harry, but he was wrong. </p><p>"I can't believe the fucking nerve," Louis continued on, pacing around the room. </p><p>"Louis," Harry sighed, trying to stop him. </p><p>"I mean, what the fuck does he expect us to do? Just sit back and take that? I ought to-" </p><p>"Louis," Harry said again in a sharp voice. </p><p>Louis frowned, turning to him. "What?" He snapped. Niall's whole body tensed. </p><p>"He <em>did </em>write it last year," Harry said quietly, picking at a hangnail on his thumb. "I don't think he's going to release anything soon. The song's not even properly mixed. You should let it go." </p><p>Liam frowned. "Look, I'm not saying Louis is right to go after him," he said and Louis scoffed in protest. "But Zayn never showed us that song for the album. That's complete bullshit." </p><p>"That's just what his team is saying," Harry argued back. "We all know what that's like. They say what er they can for damage control." </p><p>"And the truth in this case just doesn't work for him?" Louis scoffed. "Convenient." </p><p>"You supposedly know what the truth is?" Harry asked. </p><p>Louis hesitated and then cross his arms over his chest. "He didn't give us that song for any album. What am I supposed to think? When would he have recorded that? And why do you suddenly care about defending him?" Louis challenged him. </p><p>Harry huffed. "I don't. I'm just letting you know that you're wrong. To keep going at this isn't important." </p><p>"Wait," Liam interrupted. "Did he show you the song for the album?" he asked. They all turned to Harry curiously. </p><p>Harry looked flustered for a second and cleared his throat. "I heard it... a year or so ago. But it wasn't for any album, ours or his. I don't think it was ever meant to be for the public." </p><p>"Well, then, what-" Louis suddenly stopped as Harry glanced down at his shoes. Niall exchanged a glance with Louis and he sighed. "Never mind," he said and Harry looked up again. "I'll let it go." </p><p>"Thank you," Harry said and turned out of the room. </p><p>Liam sat up. "Just like that? You were fuming a moment ago." </p><p>Louis shook his head slightly. "Did you hear what he just said?" </p><p>Liam frowned. "What's your point?" </p><p>"He said no one was ever supposed to hear the song," Louis repeated. "But <em>he</em> did." </p><p>Liam leaned back in his chair, exasperated. "Oh, for fuck's sake. I can't keep up with those two. You think Zayn wrote the song for him?" </p><p>Louis shrugged. "I haven't actually listened to it, but it wouldn't surprise me." </p><p>Liam bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. "I listened to it. It definitely wasn't for us, it doesn't sound like our music at all," he admitted. "It could be. It did kind of sound like it could be about..." he sighed. "Shit, yeah, it's definitely about an affair." </p><p>"Zayn did take the song down awfully fast," Niall added. "Seemed like he was pissed it got out there in the first place." </p><p>Louis shook his head, looking between the two of them. "Lads, I think this got way more serious than I thought. Harry's been a wreck, Zayn is writing songs about him? How the hell did we miss that?" </p><p>Niall scratched at his arm awkwardly. "I, uh... I knew a little bit. I just didn't want to think about it too much, so I didn't mention it." </p><p>"I knew they were doing... something," Louis cringed. "I didn't think it got that deep, though." </p><p>"I was there when Zayn was breaking the news to him," Niall admitted. "About leaving. I overheard them on the phone. I wasn't trying to be a dick for eavesdropping, but... I just wanted to make sure Harry would be alright," he explained. "I could barely understand Zayn, he was crying so hard. He was..." he sighed. "He was telling Harry he still loved him, asking him to wait for him and all, I mean... it was brutal." </p><p>Louis rubbed his eyes. "I guess I could be a little nicer to old Hazza there, couldn't I?" he sighed, scratching at his beard. </p><p>"Maybe," Niall murmured. </p><p>*****</p><p>
  <em>same day, across the globe</em>
</p><p>
  <b>Zayn </b>
</p><p>"C'mon, babe, c'mon," Zayn muttered into his phone as he called Harry for what had to be the tenth time that day. He hadn't been able to reach Harry since March 24th, so he knew Harry wasn't going to answer, but still... he hoped. Instead of getting Harry's voicemail again, he got something much, much worse. </p><p>
  <em>The number you have dialed has been disconnected. Please dial another number. </em>
</p><p>Zayn slammed his phone against the wall, starting to panic. "Fuck <em>you</em>," he snapped angrily at the cell phone. He paced around his living room, wrapping his arms around his stomach. He was still in Harry's grey Green Bay sweater that he hadn't been able to stop wearing for the past two weeks, and as mad as he was in the moment, he couldn't bear taking it off. It felt like the moment he took it off, they'd really be over. </p><p>"Why are you so mad?" </p><p>Zayn started and turned around to see Perrie standing behind him, leaning against the doorframe. "What? What the fuck, Pez, why are you creeping around?" he muttered. </p><p>She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why are you so mad?" </p><p>He frowned. "Why wouldn't I be? My producer leaked my fucking song." </p><p>"So that was him you were cursing out on the phone, then?" </p><p>"What?" </p><p>She pursed her lips together. "Never mind." </p><p>Zayn rolled his eyes. "Nah, what are you getting at? Just say what you mean, for fuck's sake, I don't have time for this today." </p><p>She scoffed. "Fine. Who's the song for, Zayn? Because it's definitely not for me." </p><p>That startled him. He paused. "What?" </p><p>"'I'm not allowed to talk about it? You'll never be mine?'" She quoted to him and his heart dropped. He hadn't even considered what her reaction would be. He knew fans would think whatever they wanted, because the song wasn't technically proof of anything, but he'd forgotten about her. "I'm not an idiot. You're having an affair." </p><p>"Pez, come on," Zayn sighed irritably. </p><p>"No. I remember when you were recording with him," she continued. "You were in L.A. a year ago, and I know that you weren't with him the whole time. You were with someone else in L.A., weren't you?" Zayn opened his mouth to object, but she stopped him. "Don't bother lying, because I had a girlfriend at the studio who told me you weren't there for three days that you said you were." </p><p>The only thing Zayn could think to say was, "Don't be crazy." He immediately felt terrible about it. </p><p>She rolled her eyes. "I..." she sighed in exasperation. "I'm not being crazy. I'm not an idiot." </p><p>"I wasn't cheating," Zayn snapped, flustered and frustrated with this particular line of questioning. This wasn't the shit he was supposed to be dealing with right now. "I'm sick of you pretending like there's always something happening behind your back." </p><p>She squinted at him. "You really want to go there?" </p><p>Zayn scoffed. "Go where?" </p><p>"You know what?" She clenched her jaw. "I'm sick of all the pretending, too." She gestured to his sweatshirt. "I'm sick of pretending like I don't know that the Packers are Harry's team." All of the air rushed out of Zayn's lungs. "And pretending not to notice that you wear old band tee shirts to bed that are twice your size and don't smell like your cologne." </p><p>Zayn retreated a few steps. "What are you... what?" </p><p>She bulldozed over him in a terrifying rant. "I'm tired of pretending like I've never called your hotel when I couldn't get a hold of you, only to find out that half the time, you were staying in his room. I'm tired of pretending you don't get hard and moan Harry's name in your fucking <em>sleep</em>," she snapped and Zayn stared at her in complete shock as she ran out of steam. She shook her head, rubbing her hands over her face. "I convinced myself that... it was just a fantasy you had at first? And then I thought... maybe you two hooked up once or twice when you were drunk or lonely on tour, but I didn't actually have any proof. But this song... I mean, fuck. You're in love with him, aren't you?" </p><p>Zayn was completely speechless. Fear had taken over his entire body and frozen it. "I..." </p><p>"Tell me again how I'm being crazy. That I'm completely neurotic and making stuff up in my head about the two of you," she begged, but Zayn couldn't. He couldn't move. "Were you at his place? Those three days in L.A." </p><p>"Yes," rushed out of Zayn's mouth before he could stop it, and he froze in complete disbelief that he said that out loud. He was just so tired of lying to her over and over again. He'd run out of excuses. "I'm sorry." </p><p>"You can't ever be with him, can you?" He thought he saw a glimmer of sympathy in her eyes. </p><p>"Probably not," he murmured. </p><p>"Probably?" She sighed in exasperation. "Oh, Zayn. There's no way. Not only would it be a disastrous scandal, your father would probably never speak to you again." And there it was. It would've hurt less if she'd hit him with a car. "Besides, he's not even answering your calls." Zayn swallowed back tears, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing him get upset. "No wonder he could never look me in the eye. What an asshole." </p><p>"Don't talk about him like that," Zayn snapped. He didn't know where it was coming from, but he was suddenly feeling fiercely protective of Harry and what they had. </p><p>She scoffed. "Really? You're going to defend him while he won't even talk to you?" </p><p>"You don't know anything about what happened," Zayn said. "He doesn't concern you." </p><p>"Well, he's been sleeping with my boyfriend for years behind my back, so maybe he does. And look at you," she rolled her eyes. "You're still carrying a torch for him. You know he's off somewhere right now, fucking a Victoria Secret model." </p><p>He wished that mental image didn't affect him as much as it did, but he immediately wanted to throw up. "Please stop," Zayn said through gritted teeth. </p><p>She stared at him in disbelief. "We're never going to get married, are we?" </p><p>"No," he admitted, and she turned sharply on her heel and stalked out of the door. </p><p><em>Run after her, you idiot,</em> Zayn's mind was screaming at him, but it was as if his feet were planted in concrete. <em>Run, she's going to tell everyone and you'll be so screwed, run NOW. </em></p><p>He sank down onto his couch, rubbing his eyes and mentally going over what had just happened again and again. He reminded himself as his anxiety rose that she had no proof of anything, that he could blame it on her neurosis if she took it too far, that he could pretend that he and Harry hated each other if he needed to. After all, he'd been with a girl for years. That was his security. </p><p>All he wanted was to talk to Harry and hear him say that everything was going to be alright. But the fucker <em>changed his number</em>. And none of the boys had reached out to him. <em>Fuck them. Fuck all of this.</em> </p><p>He stalked upstairs and took off the sweatshirt and shoved it in the back of his closet. He was determined to get the fuck over Harry Styles and be done with it. <em>All</em> of it. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20. The one with the year apart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>december 2015</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Harry</strong>
</p>
<p>"Hey." </p>
<p>Harry glanced up as Niall walked into his hotel room. "Mate." He reached his hand out and Niall dapped him up before sitting beside him on the couch with a sigh. "How's it goin'?" </p>
<p>"It's alright," Niall shrugged, picking at his thumb nail. Harry eyed him cautiously. Niall had really, really been there for him during the remainder of their tour and the Made in the A.M. album drop, despite everything. He knew that Niall was probably very upset with him for demanding the hiatus. Harry was never quite sure where he actually stood with the other guys, but Niall had never ignored him or made him feel guilty. All of them had actually managed to get a little bit closer. There were no positives to Zayn leaving in Harry's mind, but if there had to be one, it would be that the four of them rallied together and were able to write as a unit again. There was no Zayn pulling him away from the rest of them, no secrets to keep besides the fact that his heart was broken. </p>
<p>After seeing that Zayn's engagement had ended, Harry felt a strange wash of peace come over him. He'd had a dull ache in his chest ever since he first saw Perrie with that ring on her finger. For the first time in years, it went away. He'd taken the brief moment of relief as an opportunity to reach out and send an email, but Zayn hadn't answered him. He deserved that, he supposed, but somehow, it didn't sting too badly. Something about Zayn finally being free of her and free of the band made Harry feel better. Every night before he went to sleep, he imagined the happy new Zayn, with relaxed shoulders and reggae music blasting, and sleeping and eating well. It did hurt Harry that he wasn't there to see it, but he supposed he deserved that too. </p>
<p>Nonetheless, it made him feel more hopeful. Not for their relationship, which was definitely over, but... for the future. Like if Zayn could find the bravery to be without her, maybe Harry could also find the bravery to be on his own, too. Maybe he could find the bravery to fall in love with someone else one day. </p>
<p>Unfortunately, the dull ache was replaced by a new pain, sharp and intense, when he heard about Gigi. He couldn't help thinking, <em>of course things aren't going to be different. Of course there's a new one. I was an idiot to think that there wouldn't be. </em>Only this time, it hurt even more because it seemed like Zayn actually loved her. They were impossible to miss; always out being photographed together, always loving up on each other on Snapchat or Instagram. He tried to avoid seeing any of it, but he'd seen a clip of them kissing on Twitter and almost broke his phone in two. </p>
<p>Nadine, the girl he was seeing these days, helped. He couldn't see any kind of future past them being a fling, but at least she was there. As far as he knew, Zayn had all but written him off. Mabel, his assistant, had changed his phone number when she got him a new one after he'd launched his phone off the hotel balcony in Japan. It wasn't her fault, they often changed their numbers to stay under the radar. He felt frustrated that Zayn wouldn't be able to call him, but he wasn't sure Zayn had even tried. As much as he hated this part of himself, his ego hadn't allowed him to call Zayn first, either. </p>
<p>"You ready for tonight?" Harry asked Niall carefully. It was going to be their last performance in the band for a long time. Harry meant it, at the time, that he would be willing to come back to the band at some point. Once he had time to rest, heal his broken heart, make music on his own, and tell the stories he needed to tell. The rest of them were stressed about venturing out on their own, but Harry knew they would all do well. They were all so talented; if they did it right, they could all be extremely successful on their own. </p>
<p>Niall gave him a weak smile. "I'm ready," he said. "Listen... you know how I feel about this... decision of yours," he sighed and Harry stiffened a little. "But I do get why you're doing it. I don't want you to feel like we can't hang out, or..." Harry smiled, too. Niall was struggling through it, but Harry understood him. <em>I know you're still really hurt and I'll still be there for you. </em></p>
<p>"Thanks," Harry chuckled. "I appreciate it, man." </p>
<p>They went on stage an hour later, and the performance hit Harry harder than he expected. He wanted to be done... he needed it to be done. But this band had given him everything. This band gave him all of the opportunities he'll ever have, some of the best experiences that anyone could ever ask for. It was him. It was Louis, Liam, and Niall. It was <em>Zayn</em>. This band had also given Harry a great love story and an even greater heartbreak. </p>
<p>2016 came along. More and more models came along. With each one, he felt less connected to Zayn. It was shallow, but it was working. It was shallow, but it was working. He was introduced to Mitch, and after one bottle of tequila and a round of karaoke, he was fairly certain they would be friends for the rest of their lives. </p>
<p>It was around then that he ran into Kendall at a party. She was one of the few people on this Earth that always made his heart skip a beat. Not necessarily because she was special, but because she understood him and he could be completely himself with her. Being with Kendall was like sitting on the beach all the time. She was low maintenance, she was open-minded, she didn't expect any commitment because she didn't want any, and she knew him better than most. She was the one who taught him how to paint his nails. There was also a satisfying irony that Harry found in the fact that she was close friends with Gigi. Inch by inch, small pieces of his heart started to fall back into place. </p>
<p>It shattered all over again when the Pillowtalk music video came out. There she was, tall and lean and draped all over him and they were kissing, and Zayn was singing to <em>her</em>. Harry saw the lip from a raving fan on Instagram, and it made him sick. He drowned in liquor the night and made sure there was no way he would ever have to see it again. </p>
<p>He did listen to the song, though. He wondered if it was really about her. It sounded too familiar. Not the lyrics, but the relationship. Stuck to the four walls of a bedroom, wherever that bedroom was, and everything happened there, the good and the bad. No one else seemed to understand the lyrics; critics and reporters alike thought that Zayn sounded troubled and that the relationship in the song was labeled as toxic and unhinged. Maybe that's what they were, but Harry knew there was something more to them. The critics were missing the rest of the story. The love, the longing, the complications... it was all there, if you knew where to look. Harry picked up his pen after the twentieth listen, and knew it was his turn to let some of his pain go. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <em>march 2016</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Zayn </strong>
</p>
<p>It'd been months. </p>
<p>That's what he told himself, anyway. That it'd been months since he'd thought about Harry. It'd been months since he dreamed about soft green eyes and months since he longed to hear a deep, posh voice in his ear. It was a terrible lie, but most days, Zayn tried his best to convince himself of it. This wasn't going to be one of those days. </p>
<p>He'd spent the day listening to the final cut of his album, gearing up for the release date. Pillowtalk had gone over extremely well, and he was hoping the rest of the album would do the same. But, of course, every song that he wrote was filled with Harry. How much he loved Harry, how much he hated Harry, how lonely and misunderstood he felt without Harry, all of it. </p>
<p>When he got home later for date night with Gigi, he was completely out of his head. His head was in hotel rooms in Italy, and Thailand, and Brazil, and Manchester, and Paris, always in bed next to Harry. He'd skipped out on the sex part of date night by claiming to be too stressed, and Gigi had slipped into bed to sleep after a complaint or two. He'd sat beside her, trying to get to sleep, but he couldn't. </p>
<p>He grabbed his smokes and headed out to his balcony, scrolling through Twitter to distract himself. He stopped when he landed on a gif of Harry. He should've kept scrolling past it, he knew, but he couldn't make himself do it this time. Harry was dressed in blue, <em>fuck he looks so good in blue, </em>and chilling on the arm of a couch that the rest of the boys were sitting on. He was joking with them and the interviewer had him wrap his hair in a towel. He laughed, showing off his dimples, and Zayn felt like someone had shot him in the chest. </p>
<p>He sank down onto his outdoor couch, staring at the gif as it looped over and over again. His whole body ached. He could suddenly smell Harry's cologne all around him. He could hear Harry's voice, deep and raspy. He could feel strong, thick arms holding him around his middle. He ran a finger over his lips, thinking about how much he'd like to taste Harry's vanilla Chapstick right then. Gigi's lips were often sticky with glosses that tasted like artificial, sugary icing, and he didn't like it. He didn't usually let her kiss him until she wiped it off. He thought, off-handedly, that even ten pounds of lip gloss couldn't keep him from kissing Harry. </p>
<p>He cringed, heart sinking. He wasn't supposed to be thinking like that anymore. But suddenly, he was going down a hole of #HarryStyles on Twitter, and looking at everything for hours into the night; every picture, every tweet or Instagram post of Harry's, every interview clip, every overly-sexualized gif of his shirt riding up or his hands running through his hair. He felt deep longing after watching a fan video of Harry singing Stockholm Syndrome in Glasgow. </p>
<p>He came across one tweet that made him pause for a long moment. </p>
<p>
  <em>@arihighpony: wait how did i not know that jalboyh was written by @Harry_Styles ???? why did no one tell me ??? im so &lt;/3</em>
</p>
<p>Zayn frowned, scrolling through the replies. He discovered that "jalboyh" stood for an Ariana Grande song called 'Just a Little Bit of Your Heart.' There were dozens of her fans raving about the fact that Harry was credited as the songwriter beside Johann.</p>
<p>Zayn pulled up the song on iTunes immediately and bought it before he could think about it for too long. He suspected that listening to it was only going to make him feel worse, but he didn't care, he just needed to <em>know</em>. He remembered when Harry had gone to work with her a few years back, during the engagement mess. He remembered how Harry had gushed about her and her voice. He couldn't remember Harry ever mentioning that he'd written a song for her. </p>
<p>He hesitated around listening to the song, and decided to do a little more research into it first. He came across an interview of Arian talking about it with Zach Sang. She described Harry as a perfect gentleman and a genius lyricist, which didn't surprise Zayn at all. What surprised him was that she didn't ask him to write a song for her, Harry had offered. She claimed he'd finished the song in a matter of an hour and it blew her mind. </p>
<p>Zayn crept back into his bedroom quietly to grab his headphones and walked back outside, settling onto the couch. He pulled up the song and closed his eyes, wishing that Harry was the one singing it instead of her. </p>
<p>
  <em>I don't ever ask you where you've been... And I don't feel the need to know who you're with... I can't even think straight, but I can tell... you were just with her... and I'll still be a fool... Baby, I'm a fool for you... Just a little bit of your heart... Just a little bit of your heart... Just a little bit of your heart is all I want... </em>
</p>
<p>Zayn ripped his earbuds out. <em>No, no, no... </em>He felt like he was reading Harry's diary. He didn't like to think about this anymore; how much they used to hurt each other. He didn't want to remember it like that. He hated to think about Harry hurting so badly and never telling him. If he had to, he wanted to remember them kissing, laughing, breathing each other in. When he closed his eyes, he wanted to see Harry smiling sleepily at him when they woke up in the afternoon, not Harry's eyes welling up with tears that he never let out. </p>
<p>Zayn just wanted to call him. He wanted to hear Harry say his name. He just wanted to ring him and tell him to come over, which was completely irrational, because they hadn't spoken in months... maybe even a year. <em>How could that be? </em>How had he even survived a year without Harry? He could barely remember his life before falling for Harry, yet spent seventeen years of it without him. Zayn felt like he hadn't even been fully alive until he'd met Harry. </p>
<p>He left his phone, retreating to bed to try and get all of this off of his mind. The next morning, when Gigi woke up and slid her hands into his, her soft and slender fingers felt alien. He couldn't stop remembering how Harry's hand felt, big and strong and protective. He couldn't stop cringing at the smell of her perfume. The more unsettled he got, the more he missed Harry. He craved a strong, deep voice in his ear to murmur, "<em>Everything's gonna be okay, baby." </em></p>
<p>When Gigi left for work, Zayn reached fora pen and paper, and gathered the courage to listen to the rest of the song. He let the rest of the sentiment flow through his fingers, because Harry had captured it all so well. That's exactly what they were for each other; <em>fools. </em>He was a fool for falling for Harry in the first place, a fool for letting Harry break his heart, a fool for not being able to get over him. When he was finished with his version of the song, he knew he'd have to add it to the album. If there was a chance Harry would listen to it when it came out, Zayn wanted him to know on some level that all of it was for him. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21. The one with the reunion (pt. 1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>summer 2016</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Zayn </strong>
</p><p>"It's going to be fine, Z," Gigi reasoned with Zayn as he paced around, chewing his fingernails. "The fans, they're going to understand, they love you so much."</p><p>"I don't know," Zayn shook his head. "They're expecting more of me than I'm giving them, and rightfully so. I mean... live shows? Every fucking singer on Earth does them. I used to do them all the fucking time, why... why... <em>fuck, </em>why can't I just do this?" he snapped loudly. </p><p>"Hey," Gigi protested. "Calm down. It's not going to help any to get upset." </p><p>When Zayn's album finally released three months ago, the success of it was wild. The second the numbers started coming in, the parties began and Zayn was buzzed for a week straight. Invitations for performances on different talk shows and different venues poured in. He had been able to get through the first few while he was on such a high. But then, as the weeks passed, the stress began. The negative thoughts began. He started thinking that he didn't really deserve this, that he didn't really achieve this, and that people didn't care about the music. They were only interested him because he was the first one to leave One Direction, or because he broke up with internationally loved Little Mix star Perrie Edwards, and people just wanted to hear the aftermath. </p><p>The lives started to feel more and more daunting. When he was in the band and he had the rest of the boys with him for shows, his anxiety never got so bad. Niall and Liam were always there cracking jokes, Louis was always there with a smoke for him, and... Harry. Harry was always there, too, with reassuring kisses and whispers. <em>Except he's not. Not anymore. </em></p><p>Zayn hadn't heard anything from Harry after his album release. He was hoping that Harry would listen to it and understand everything. He was hoping it would make Harry miss him. He was hoping Harry would put his pride aside and call, or at least text, to congratulate him. But nothing came. </p><p>He had the same issue; his pride wouldn't let him reach out to Harry first. He missed Harry a lot, though; he resorted to incorporating parts of Harry into his life wherever he could. Maybe it was kind of pathetic, he didn't care. He just thought Harry might notice... or some force in the universe that once brought them together would see that he wanted Harry back and play its part in reuniting them. He wore a Gucci jacket that was designed based on Harry's tattoos on one of his cover shoots. He slept in that damn Green Bay hoodie more nights than he cared to admit. </p><p>He even drove past Harry's house in London once, hoping to just catch a glimpse of him outside. He knew Harry was probably in L.A., but he'd gone anyway. He'd passed by the old electrical box at the end of Harry's street, and remembered when they'd finally gotten back together after the engagement mess. He remembered sneaking out of Perrie's house when she was asleep and spray-painting a heart on the box, hoping that Harry would see it and understand what Zayn had been trying to say. He'd been trying his best to say <em>I love you </em>without actually having to say the words, which would have hurt both of them at the time. Later that night, he'd gone back and painted another figure onto it. He painted a man in black staring down at his phone. He took a picture of it and posted it on Instagram. He hoped Harry would see it and get the message. <em>Call me. I need to hear your voice. </em>But that was two months ago. He'd still heard nothing. </p><p>Now, with a performance in Manchester looming, he knew he wouldn't be able to do it. The guilt was crushing, the anxiety was worse. The second he thought about stepping on stage, he had the kind of stress that a person feels deeply in their gut. It felt like when he had to do a school presentation if he wasn't going to be able to speak or sing without his voice cracking or without throwing up on stage? </p><p>He started doing what he always did; misplacing his anger. "How-how the fuck is Niall already on fucking talk shows and Louis is putting out remixes with fucking... Bebe Rexha?" he scoffed. </p><p>Gigi frowned. "Don't worry about what they're doing," she suggested. "They have nothing to do with you anymore." </p><p>"Maybe they do," Zayn argued. "I mean, I'm going to be compared to them for the rest of my life. What does it say about me if I can barely step on a stage?" </p><p>Gigi grabbed his hands in an attempt to slow him down. "Nothing. It says you're human. Your fans love you so much. I mean, they've accepted me with open arms." </p><p>"Yeah," Zayn sighed, although he wasn't sure that this had anything to do with her. </p><p>"The fans will come see you guys when you're ready," she said. "Look, those guys... they don't go through what you go through. I mean... take Harry, for example," she said. </p><p>It threw him off to hear Harry's name in her mouth. He recoiled from her slightly. "Why are you bringing him up?" </p><p>She looked slightly surprised at his reaction. "Just... he lives for performing, doesn't he?" she said and Zayn clenched his jaw. "And it was never about that for you, was it? That doesn't make you bad or anything." </p><p>"I guess," Zayn murmured. He let her calm him down for a while, but his anxiety didn't stop. There were bad thoughts lurking around every corner; if he did perform, he could fuck it up and disappoint everyone. If he didn't perform, he could fucking disappoint everyone anyway and he would confirm what all the press already thought about him. He just wanted to smoke and sleep it away. </p><p>Gigi brought it up later, probably just to check on him, but Zayn was still agitated and he lashed out at her. She scoffed and stalked out, and Zayn was left to do his boyfriend duty of chasing after her and apologizing relentlessly, even though he was the one who was upset. He eventually convinced her to come back inside for dinner, even though it was mostly eaten in silence. Gigi was eyeing him strangely. "Will you at least tell me why you're still upset?" she asked him. </p><p>Zayn rubbed his eyes and sighed. The truth came tumbling out before he could stop it. "It's just... it's Harry," he muttered. "The dickhead." </p><p>She frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry if bringing him up earlier was wrong, I didn't realize-" </p><p>"No, it's-" Zayn sighed. "It's just that I want to talk to him, but I don't think I can." </p><p>Gigi leaned forward, rubbing his shoulder softly. "You could, maybe. You guys were friends for years, I'm sure he's forgiven you by now for leaving the band." </p><p>Zayn nodded tightly. "Maybe." </p><p>"You've forgiven him, haven't you?" she asked. </p><p>"Kind of," he sighed and wished he could explain to her why it was more complicated than that. "We had a big fight before I left. Massive." </p><p>"About what?" she asked and Zayn shook his head. Gigi pursed her lips, thinking. "Look, for what it's worth, Kendall says he doesn't talk bad about you." </p><p>Zayn looked up at her, suddenly annoyed. "Kendall says? They're hanging out again?" </p><p>Gigi nodded. "Yeah. I think they're dating for real this time. He introduced her to his mom and everything." </p><p>Zayn hated how sick that news made him feel. <em>Harry really, really liked her. He could </em><em>love her by now. </em>That thought made him feel panicked. He nodded, trying to look casual. "Wow." He glanced back at Gigi. "She talked to him about me?" </p><p>"Um, a little," Gig shrugged. "I mean, I'm her best friend and he knows you. She was just trying to get his opinion of you for me. You know how girls do." </p><p>Zayn scoffed. "And he didn't tell her that I was a piece of shit and you should dump me immediately?" </p><p>Gigi shook her head. "No. He told her he thought you'd be good to me." </p><p>Zayn immediately felt a deep stab of sadness in his chest because <em>of course. </em>Of course Harry would say something so nice about him, even though things got so bad between them. He felt tears prick at the back of his eyes thinking about the way Harry used to always tell him how good he was. About the way Harry would somehow say 'I love you' at just the right moments when Zayn felt like giving up and pulled him back down to Earth. </p><p>"There was just, like... a long part of my life when he knew me better than a lot of people, you know?" Zayn sighed. "I just think like... I'd feel better if I could talk to him. Like he'd get it, without me having to say much. He always used to." </p><p>"Call him," Gigi suggested. "Honestly, I think he would answer. And if he doesn't, he's a petty dick." </p><p>Zayn frowned. "Don't..." he sighed. "Don't call him that. I shouldn't be talking shit on him either, honestly." He scratched at his eyebrow. "You're wrong about him," he said and Gigi raised an eyebrow. "What you said this morning, that he lives to perform. It's not like that. It's easy for him, but he cared about the music just as much as I did." </p><p>"Oh," Gigi shrugged. "Well, then... even more reason you should call him." </p><p>"Maybe," Zayn sighed. He suddenly felt too exposed, like he was getting too close to the truth about the nature of his relationship with Harry. "Just... forget about it. I'll shoot him an email or something, it won't be a big deal. Let's not talk about this anymore." </p><p>She agreed to drop the subject, but Zayn didn't sleep that night. Hearing about Harry and Kendall stressed him out to an extreme degree. Kendall was the only person that Zayn had ever really worried about losing Harry to. He honestly didn't even know that he cared this much anymore, but he did. He didn't want Harry with her. She increased the chance that Harry might never come back to him. Thinking about her mouth on Harry's, her hands on him, his hands on her... Zayn could barely stand to look at his food for the next few days. </p><p>More days passed, and the thought of Harry and Kendall got to him more and more. he wished there was a way he could tell Harry to wait for him. <em>What if I'm too late? </em>There was no one better to convey all of that than Drake. He covered the song Sooner Than Later, and hoped Harry might get that message, too. Zayn tried to muster up some courage. He tried to think of different ways to reach Harry. He daydreamed about running into him in obscure places, like a restaurant or a clothing store, or even the fucking park, as ridiculous as that sounded. </p><p>One day, he remembered that Harry emailed him. About a year ago, when his engagement ended, <em>Harry emailed me. </em>Zayn raced down to his home studio and scrambled to pull it up on his desktop, searching for it frantically. <em>Please don't tell me I was such a dick that I deleted it. </em></p><p>There it was. May 5th, 2015. From Harry Styles. Unread. For the life of him, Zayn couldn't remember his justification for not reading it back then. He had no idea what Harry wrote, and it was possible that it would completely break his heart but he had to know. </p><p>
  <em>May 5th, 2015, 14:26 </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hi Zayn</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope you're good. I wanted to reach out and congratulate you on your new contract and label. I know you're going to do a lot of big things. It may sound preemptive, but I'm already proud of you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wish things had gone down differently two months ago. I'm sorry they didn't. I want you to know that I do respect you and your decision, even if it hasn't come off that way. I think you're brave. I hope I can be as brave as you are. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>If you want to talk, I'm 020-237-8992. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>H </em>
</p><p>Zayn read it again and again, making sure it was real. <em>He signed it. It was really from him. Holy shit. </em></p><p>He plugged the number into his phone and spent the next few hours with his fingers hovering over Harry's contact. Did he text or call? If he texted, did he send a long message or start the conversation casually? He spent a fair amount of time being pissed that he was even debating it so heavily. He felt stupid that he cared so much and upset that he couldn't talk to Harry as easily as he used too. He felt ridiculous that it was even making him so nervous. When the anger rose up again, he thought about ditching the idea entirely, until he remembered that the reason he was doing this at all was because he missed Harry so much it was starting to ache. </p><p>He sat down outside on his porch when Gigi left that night and finally mustered up the courage to call when he knew Harry wouldn't pick up. He had planned out what to say exactly, but when the voicemail beeped, his words suddenly got caught in the back of his throat. </p><p>He cleared his throat, suddenly clammy. "Hey, Haz, it's me. Zayn," he said quickly, standing up to pace. "Listen, I... I don't know if this is still your number or anything but I wanted to- ah, shit," he snapped as he tripped himself against the leg of the table. "Um, sorry, I-" He stopped for a second, taking a deep breath. "This is kind of a mess, yeah?" He had to laugh at himself a little. "Listen, Haz, all I wanted to say is that... I miss talking' with you and if you want to catch up, just uhm... text me or something, yeah? Bye," he said and hung up the phone. He proceeded to hurl profanities at it as soon as he knew the connection was cut off. </p><p><em>So stupid, </em>he thought, shaking his head. <em>He hates me. I'm just a bother to him. I'm too late. He doesn't want to talk to me anymore. I just made a complete fool out of myself for that boy AGAIN. </em>If there was one thing that Zayn hated more than anything else, it was feeling uncool. Harry could sometimes make him feel like he owned the entire world, and other times like he was the biggest idiot on it. </p><p>He was deep into his third joint of the night when his phone rang and his heart skipped a beat when he saw that it was Harry. He grabbed his phone immediately and took a deep breath before answering. "Hey." </p><p>There was a moment of quiet before he heard Harry's voice. "<em>Hi." </em></p><p>Zayn's eyes closed. "How are you?" </p><p><em>"I'm okay, mostly," </em>Harry answered. Zayn had almost forgotten how slowly he talked. <em>"You?" </em></p><p>Zayn wanted to tell him everything, but he knew it would be too much, too fast. "Not too bad," he lied. He wondered if Harry could tell he was lying even over the phone. Harry always knew, somehow. </p><p>"<em>Thanks for calling," </em>Harry said. <em>"I've been meaning to- you know, I've wanted to." </em></p><p>"Yeah, me too," Zayn murmured. He cringed slightly, and took a hit of his blunt, because he had no idea what to say or how to make things better. </p><p>
  <em>"How's your family?" </em>
</p><p>"They're alright," Zayn shrugged. "Mum's happy, everyone else is chillin'. Safaa's got a boyfriend." </p><p><em>"What?" </em>Harry protested. <em>"Already?" </em></p><p>Zayn grinned. "She's like thirteen now, man, you had a girlfriend when you were that age." </p><p>
  <em>"Damn. I remember the last time I hugged her she only came up to my stomach." </em>
</p><p>"That's not saying much, Haz, you're a giant." </p><p>
  <em>"Heyyyy..." </em>
</p><p>Zayn chuckled, his heart swelling. "It's killing me, believe me. He's a nice enough kid, but none of us were nice when we were fourteen. Except you, maybe." How quickly he was slipping back into flirting. </p><p>Harry scoffed. <em>"Yeah, right." </em></p><p>"How's your folks?" </p><p>
  <em>"Good, really good." </em>
</p><p>"And Robin?" </p><p>
  <em>"Um... you know, he's okay. He's fighting the cancer, but..." </em>
</p><p>"Yeah," Zayn sighed. "I'm sorry." </p><p><em>"It is what it is,</em>" Harry murmured. <em>"Hey, um... congratulations on Mind of Mine. It's brilliant." </em></p><p>Zayn's heart leapt into his throat for a moment. "Oh, yeah, um... thanks. You listened to it?" </p><p>
  <em>"Of course I did. Every song." </em>
</p><p>"Good..." Zayn swallowed. "Yeah... I kinda hoped that you would." </p><p>Harry was quiet for a second. <em>"Well... it </em><em>certainly deserves all of its praise." </em></p><p>"Thanks," Zayn sighed and squirmed a little, starting to get uncomfortable with the road they were going down. It was too fast. "Did I hear you're going to be in a Nolan movie?" </p><p>Harry chuckled, and the sound made Zayn sink into his chair. <em>"You heard right. First day was Tuesday. I was basically just trying not to throw up the entire time." </em></p><p>Zayn smiled. "So... you have time to tell me about it?" </p><p>He grinned as Harry launched into the story and sat back, enjoying it. Harry asked about Eid and his cousins. It was easy, these conversations about nothing too important. It was easy and that felt like a relief because at least Harry didn't hate him so much that they couldn't even get through something as simple as this. Before he knew it, they'd been chatting for an hour. </p><p><em>"Hey, I'm being called back into the studio," </em>Harry said. </p><p>That made Zayn happy. "You're writing, then?" </p><p><em>"Yeah, I met a few good guys and we've all been working together for a little while,</em>" he said. "<em>It's going good. You'd like them." </em></p><p>"Good," Zayn smiled. </p><p>"<em>They need me to get back to it. It was really nice to hear your voice, Zayn." </em></p><p>Zayn's heart suddenly pounded with anxiety at how final that sounded. "Uh, yeah, you too, Haz." </p><p>"<em>I'll uh... talk to you again sometime soon, okay?" </em></p><p>Zayn let out a deep breath. "Yeah, sounds good." </p><p>"<em>Bye." </em></p><p>Zayn walked into his room and collapsed in his bed, rubbing his hands over his face. <em>I'll talk to you again sometime soon, okay? </em>He couldn't stop smiling. He hoped with everything in him that Harry meant it. He slept for ten hours straight that night, which was the most he'd slept through the night in weeks. </p><p>His heart almost burst the next day when Harry texted him a picture of a Gucci suit and asked his opinion on it. He responded right away: </p><p>Z: <em>I like it. u would look great in it </em></p><p>H: <em>That decides it then. </em></p><p>The next few months continued like that, with each of them braving new topics with the other every day. It made him happy when Harry took his advice and went to Jamaica to write at Geejam. Zayn missed him, because he was mostly off of his phone to write, but he was glad that Harry was feeling connected to the music. </p><p>At least, he tried to be glad. Mostly, he just felt anxiety building again. Talking to Harry was a relief from his own head and without him, he was starting to feel like the walls were closing in again. He found himself re-reading their text conversations all the time. Gigi tried to help him, but she couldn't. No one helped like Harry. He always knew exactly what to say. </p><p>He thought of something one night when he was pacing, wishing a text would magically pop up in response to the one he'd sent Harry a few minutes ago. He knew Harry was supposed to be flying home, and that he was probably on a flight and wouldn't be able to answer for hours. He looked up Made in the A.M., and tried to swallow his bitter feelings about it, glancing through the track list. He'd stopped himself from ever doing this before. He scrolled and paused when his finger landed over the song called "If I Could Fly." He knew right away. He had no doubts, but he was right; there was Harry's name listed as the writer. </p><p>"<em>If I could fly..." </em>Harry's voice started out soft and Zayn closed his eyes, sinking into it. He hadn't heard Harry sing in ages. It wasn't long until Liam took over, but Zayn tried to ignore it and focus on the words. He lost his breath a little as the song hit its chorus. </p><p>
  <em>"For your eyes only... I'll show you my heart... For when you're lonely... and forget who you are... I'm missing half of me... when we're apart... Now you know me... for your eyes only..." </em>
</p><p>Zayn swallowed against the lump in his throat, and tried to calm his sudden erratic breathing. All he could think was <em>fuck. He loved me. </em></p><p>He felt overwhelming guilt and he would've given anything in the world to be in front of Harry at that moment, to apologize for leaving and kiss him and show him how sorry he really was for everything. His fingers were dialing before he could stop them.</p><p>
  <strong>Harry </strong>
</p><p>Harry woke up to the sound of his phone ringing, and he blinked sleep away from his eyes irritably, reaching around his bed blindly. He was unbelievably jet lagged; he'd just gotten back to London a few hours ago and passed out in his bed. He pulled the screen at the last ting, just in time to see the name 'Zayn' disappear. He stared at his phone for a moment without moving, halfway wondering if he was dreaming. It was three in the morning and there was always the chance he'd imagined it. He realized he hadn't when the next notification that popped up was "Missed Call &amp; Voicemail: Zayn." </p><p>He unlocked his phone and stared at the voicemail. He sat up in his bed, fingers hovering carefully over the message. He wanted to hear it, but he knew there could be a number of things on it that might break his heart all over again. He and Zayn had texted almost every day for the past couple of months, but they only talked a handful of times on the phone and it was a little soon for Zayn to be leaving him late-night messages. But he also knew there was no chance he was going to delete it. He pressed play. </p><p><em>"Hey,</em>" Zayn's low voice came over the speaker. There was a quiet moment followed by an all-too-familiar sound of a lighter clicking on and a subsequent deep breath. "<em>This might sound stupid, but I'm thinking about you. Call me if you want to talk.</em>" </p><p>Harry sighed deeply. He knew Zayn well enough to know that he didn't sound good. He sounded tired, which would be justified given the time, but it was more than that. He also knew that "<em>if you want to talk</em>" really meant "<em>please</em>." </p><p>He sighed and pressed the call button. He panicked for a second when he realized that he had no plan of what he would say if Zayn didn't answer, but after only two rings, Zayn picked up. </p><p>
  <em>"Harry." </em>
</p><p>He cleared his throat. "Hey," he said quietly. "Where are you? Do you know what time it is?" </p><p>"<em>I know. I'm sorry, it sounds like you were sleeping. You've got your raspy voice on.</em>" </p><p>Harry chuckled at that. He leaned in a little; Zayn's voice sounded hoarse and muffled. "I was. What's up?" </p><p>Zayn was quiet for a moment. "<em>Uhm... I just wanted to... I kind of...</em>" </p><p>"Hey," Harry prompted him gently, suddenly worried. He hoped Zayn would take the invitation to say what he really wanted to. </p><p>"<em>I haven't been totally honest about... you know... like how everything's going,</em>" he said and Harry frowned. <em>"Like... it's been ages since I've slept okay or anything... I don't really eat too much... I don't know. I can't breathe too easy these days..</em>." </p><p>"You'll be okay," Harry said quietly. He didn't like the way he could hear Zayn's breath hitching through the speaker, like he was ramping up to a panic. "This will pass." </p><p>"<em>I don't know, Haz, will it?</em>" </p><p>"Oh, Zayn," Harry felt sad immediately. His fingers stretched out over his leg, reaching for something that wasn't there. "I promise it will." </p><p>Zayn sighed. "<em>I'm... I'm just so fucking sorry, Haz. I'm sorry I let you down.</em>" </p><p>Harry swallowed. "When did you do that?" </p><p>"<em>When I left. I shouldn't have left you like that,</em>" Zayn sounded like he was going to cry. "<em>I'm sorry.</em>" </p><p>"Zayn..." </p><p>"<em>I'm sorry I didn't stay, Haz, I just couldn't do it-</em>" </p><p>"I know, it's okay-" </p><p>"<em>I really fucking tried and I couldn't- I'm so sorry..</em>." </p><p>"I'm the one who's sorry," Harry cut him off. "I'm sorry I made you feel so bad for going. The way I handled it... it keeps me up at night," he admitted, and wished his voice wouldn't wobble. "And after everything... I wasn't there to love you. I feel the shittiest about that. I should've been there. I'm the one who should be sorry." </p><p>Zayn didn't answer that for a long moment. "<em>I miss you</em>," he breathed. </p><p>Harry took a deep breath. "I miss you, too," he admitted hesitantly. "Where are you? Are you alone?" </p><p>"<em>I'm at my place in New York</em>," Zayn said. "<em>My cousins... they're around. They're drunk playing Madden downstairs like usual.</em>" </p><p>"I'm glad you're not alone," Harry said, and scratched the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. "Can they help you? I mean... at least ease your mind tonight?" </p><p>"<em>Nobody helps like you</em>," Zayn murmured and sighed again. "<em>I know it's not fair. I know I shouldn't be calling</em>." </p><p>"No, you should," Harry insisted. Zayn was his family. At the end of the day, he needed to be okay. "Forget about everything. I want you to feel better." </p><p>Zayn coughed after another inhale. "<em>I want to see you.</em>" </p><p>Harry swallowed. "...I don't know." </p><p>"<em>Please.</em>" Zayn's voice came through the speakers clearly for the first time. </p><p>Harry thought for a moment. He'd hoped, in the back of his mind, that their recent texts back and forth would eventually lead to a reconciliation in person. This, though, was coming a little faster than he'd anticipated. "I'm going to have to pass through the East Coast on my way to L.A. in a few weeks. Will you still be in New York?" </p><p>"<em>Where are you?</em>" </p><p>"I just got to my house in London like five hours ago." </p><p>"<em>Oh</em>," Zayn thought for a moment. "<em>I could come to you</em>." </p><p>"...Yeah?"</p><p>"<em>I mean... if that's okay</em>." </p><p>"Of course," Harry nodded. </p><p>"<em>I just... don't want to wait weeks to only see you for like a day... you know?</em>" Zayn said quietly. </p><p>Harry swallowed. "Yeah, I know. When... um, when do you want to come?" Zayn didn't answer. "How about... I can get you a plane up here tomorrow?" </p><p>"<em>Yeah?</em>" Zayn said softly. "<em>You sure?</em>" </p><p>"I'm sure." </p><p>Zayn took a deep breath. "<em>Okay, uh... yeah. Good</em>." </p><p>Harry tapped on his leg before standing up, pacing around his room. He didn't want to hang up yet. It didn't feel right. "So... will you tell me about your place in New York?" </p><p>He could almost hear Zayn's smile through the phone then. They talked for a while about small things, like Zayn's graffiti wall in his backyard and his dog, and how the weed in Jamaica made Harry loopy for two days straight. They swapped stories that had been too long to tell over text. Harry eventually sat back down in his bed, eyes closing against his will. He wasn't sure exactly when he'd drifted off, but he woke back up with a start after his leg slipped off the bed. </p><p>He woke up to silence and almost wanted to panic. "Zayn," he said hopefully, unsure of how much time had passed. </p><p>"<em>Yeah?</em>" </p><p>Harry smiled. "Sorry. I'm dozing off." </p><p>"<em>I know. You were snoring for a minute there. I just, uh... couldn't hang up yet. I didn't mind.</em>" </p><p>Harry felt that same deep pull in his chest then, that same warmth that flowed through his entire body whenever Zayn did something that was almost sickeningly romantic without even realizing it. Feeling brave then, he said, "I've always liked hearing your voice on my way to sleep." </p><p>Zayn took a deep breath. "<em>How do you do this?</em>" he mused aloud. "<em>I already feel better."</em> </p><p>Harry felt immensely proud of himself at that moment. "Good." </p><p><em>"I'm getting tired."</em> </p><p>"That's good, too." </p><p>"<em>So... can I call you in the morning?"</em> </p><p>"I'll call you... I'll give you the details of your flight and everything, alright?" </p><p>"<em>Yeah... cool. Sounds good. Night, Haz."</em> </p><p>"Goodnight." </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22. The one with the reunion (pt 2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>the next day </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Zayn </b>
</p>
<p>"Did you say the house is 226?" </p>
<p>Zayn glanced down at his phone, double-checking the address that Harry gave him. "Yeah, this is the one," he responded to the driver, who pulled to a halt outside of a gated driveway. Harry had arranged everything for him; he'd called a car to pick up Zayn at his place in New York, arranged a private jet, and ordered another car service picked him up at the hanger in London. </p>
<p>Zayn tried to settle his nerves as the driver dialed in the code to Harry's gate, smoothing his hands over his shirt. He reached for his phone for a chance to quickly check his hair in the Snapchat camera, fussing with it for the fifth time in two minutes. It was just Harry, he tried to tell himself, but at the same it was <em>Harry</em>. He had to look good. </p>
<p>He was as nervous as he'd ever been for anything. He was desperate to make a good impression on Harry, show him that he'd grown and changed, but at the same time, Harry could make him feel like an idiot 17-year-old again just by looking at him. <em>And I can't look like I'm trying too hard..</em>. He deflated with a sigh and stopped messing with his hair as the driver pulled up to the house. </p>
<p>Suddenly, there he was. Harry. <em>Fuck, he looks so good</em>. Coming out of his front door and jogging down the steps. Rounding the front of the car to give a tip to the driver and thank him. Zayn took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. </p>
<p>Harry turned to him and time stopped. They both froze for only the briefest of a second, but it felt like an eternity to Zayn. Those perfect, green eyes landed on him for the first time in a year and Zayn had to take that brief second to catch his breath. </p>
<p>"Hey," Harry smiled at him and all of the tension left Zayn's shoulders. </p>
<p>"Hey," Zayn sighed and Harry reached for his arm, and pulled him into a hug. Zayn was surprised at how tightly Harry held onto him, and he smiled, reaching his arms over Harry's neck. <em>He smells the same</em>. "Happy to see me?" he asked quietly. </p>
<p>Harry squeezed his waist. "Sooo happy," he murmured and Zayn grinned. "Was your flight okay?" </p>
<p>"Yeah, it was good," Zayn assured him. </p>
<p>Harry let him go as the driver started to grab Zayn's bag out of the trunk. "I've got that," he offered and slung Zayn's bag over his shoulder. He shook the driver's hand again. "Thanks again, mate." </p>
<p>"No problem, I'm off," the driver said, and got back in behind the wheel. Harry turned back to Zayn. </p>
<p>"You don't have to do that," Zayn pointed to his bag, but he already knew that Harry wouldn't listen to him. </p>
<p>"You're here with me now," Harry said. "You're not lifting a finger." </p>
<p>Zayn laughed and followed Harry to the front door. "So, new house, eh?" </p>
<p>"Yeah, I ended up selling the old one. I never really got settled in that one anyway," Harry shrugged. "I thought about keeping it, but I got a really good return on my investment with that one. I may sell this one, too," he admitted as they walked in. "Haven't quite found the right one, yet." </p>
<p>There was a moment of quiet realization as the door shut behind them that they were completely alone. Harry set Zayn's bag down by the stairs and turned to him, looking unsure of what to say. His gaze travelled over Zayn's body, making Zayn feel incredibly warm. Zayn cleared his throat. "You look good," he offered Harry with a smile, rubbing the back of his neck. </p>
<p>Harry smiled back at him. "Never as good as you." </p>
<p>Zayn rolled his eyes at how cheesy it was, Harry grinned at him, and just like that, all of the tension in the room was eased and it was like no time had passed. Harry took him around the first floor of the house, which was gorgeous and airy. Harry poured them both drinks and took him out to the extensive garden. There was a huge fire pit and high walls surrounded by trees so that it was private. There were flowers everywhere, too. </p>
<p>Zayn was trying his best to listen to what Harry was saying, but he couldn't stop staring. Harry looked incredible and sexy, but he also looked so <em>different</em>. He still looked like Harry, but at the same time... he looked like a whole new person. He didn't slouch anymore. His hair was short and clipped, and his body was somehow even thicker and stronger. He looked... hardened, almost, like he had walls up that Zayn had never seen there before. Zayn wavered slightly, wondering if he was slightly responsible for that. </p>
<p>He was relieved when Harry stopped in front of a rose bush, pointing it out proudly. "I grew that." </p>
<p>Zayn grinned. He twisted the rose shaped ring that he was wearing on his pointer finger. He'd worn it especially because he remembered that Harry liked it. "Did you? How?" </p>
<p>He listened as Harry explained how he'd seen his gardeners planting the bushes at his house in L.A.. Anne had told him to put some of the seeds in a wet paper towel and a plastic bag so that they would sprout and stay healthy on the plane back to London. Zayn listened to the story in complete and utter adoration. </p>
<p>"I sounded like a complete idiot trying to explain it to airport security," Harry laughed at himself, fingers reaching down to brush over one of the roses.</p>
<p>Zayn forgot himself for a moment and reached up, passing a hand through Harry's hair. The overfamiliarity didn't seem to bother Harry, who turned to him with a smile. "I don't think I've ever seen your hair this short," he commented, resting his hand on the back of Harry's neck for a second before dropping it. </p>
<p>Harry shrugged. "You like it?" </p>
<p>"Sure," Zayn chuckled. "I like seeing your curls, though." </p>
<p>"Give me a few minutes, they'll grow in," Harry smirked and Zayn laughed. Harry tipped his head to the sofas around the fire pit. "Want to sit?" </p>
<p>Zayn followed him to the couch and Harry sat beside him, flicking a switch on the side of the fire pit to turn it on. Zayn eyed Harry's hair again. "You cut it for the Nolan film, yeah?" </p>
<p>Harry nodded. "Yeah, I had to, but also like... it was just kind of time to get rid of the long hair," he chuckled. "Time to let it go." </p>
<p>Zayn smiled. "Yeah, I get that. So... you gonna be a big shot movie star, now?" </p>
<p>"Hardly," Harry snorted. "I've only got like... 15 lines or something." </p>
<p>"Yeah, but you'll be the talk of the whole thing, I already know it," Zayn smiled. "After all, I mean, Nolan picked you, yeah? He's a smart guy, he wouldn't let you do it if you were bad. Be proud, Haz." </p>
<p>Harry smiled down at his lap. "I'm excited to finally see it all done, you know? Like see it all come together." Zayn nodded. "My grandfather was at Dunkirk... I know my mum will tear up like no tomorrow." </p>
<p>Zayn chuckled. "'Course she will. Everyone around you will be losing it with how proud they are of you." </p>
<p>Harry leaned towards him in his chair and Zayn's stomach flipped. "Are you proud of me?" he asked. </p>
<p>Zayn nodded. "Loads," he answered honestly. "Yeah, 'course I am." </p>
<p>Harry's eyes flicked down to his lips, and Zayn felt the urge to lick them, to make sure they looked good. "I suppose there's no way to convince you to be my date to the premiere?" Harry murmured and the question made Zayn blush a little bit. All he could do was smile and shake his head. Harry smiled back at him. "Damn. I had our matching outfits all ready to go and everything." </p>
<p>Zayn laughed and shoved him away gently. "Moron," he snickered and Harry grinned. Zayn settled deeper into his seat, shifting his body closer to Harry's. "So... you have a lot of like promo to do for it and stuff?" </p>
<p>Harry sighed. "Yeah, there's a press haul in London and in L.A. I'll be here for the London one and then we're flying out like right after that." </p>
<p>Zayn paused a little at that. "We?" </p>
<p>Harry nodded. "Me and Charlie, yeah, one of the lads from the film. He's gonna stay with me in L.A." </p>
<p>As irrational as it was, jealousy yanked at Zayn's heart. He eyed Harry for a moment. He wasn't sure he could handle it if he was about to find out that Harry was seeing a man. "And, um... Charlie's your friend, then?" </p>
<p>Harry eyed him back. "Yeah. We get on well." Zayn shifted nervously in his seat. "But, you know," Harry shrugged, seeming to suddenly understand the subtext of Zayn's question. "We're friends. He does a lot of films, so he's in hotels a lot. I thought I'd offer him a break from it." </p>
<p>Zayn nodded, satisfied with that. "Cool, man, that's nice of you." </p>
<p>Harry shrugged again. "You know... he helped me a lot in the start of the film with my nerves and all." </p>
<p>"You? Nervous to perform?" Zayn chuckled. "I can't picture it." </p>
<p>"For Nolan? Hell, yeah." </p>
<p>"For millions of teenage girls and a live studio audience, though? Not a problem," Zayn teased him, thoroughly amused. </p>
<p>"I honestly thought it would be kind of like SNL," Harry admitted. "It was so different, though, everyone was so serious. Like a bunch of the guys were in their characters between scenes so it could get like... scarily quiet." </p>
<p>They talked about the film for a while longer, and then Harry asked him if he was hungry for dinner yet. </p>
<p>"Let me make dinner," Zayn offered and Harry raised an eyebrow. "C'mon, it's the least I can do." He stood up, heading for the kitchen. </p>
<p>Harry followed him, amused. "I'm sure whatever you make will be miles better than what I can do, but you don't have to. I don't mind cooking. You're here to relax." </p>
<p>"Nah, let me, it'll be easy," Zayn replied, opening the fridge. "I bet I know my way around this kitchen. I know my way around all your kitchens because you organize them all in the same weird way." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Zayn silenced him with one look. "Bowls on the left, plates on the right? Weird." </p>
<p>"I stand by it," Harry chuckled as he sat on one of the island stools. "Flows better." </p>
<p>"No, it really doesn't." </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>
  <b>Harry</b>
</p>
<p>Zayn dug around Harry's fridge and cabinets until he had all of the ingredients for butter chicken on the counter and got to work. Harry didn't want to get in his way, so he hovered around Zayn and watched him with intrigue, asking quiet questions here and there about what he was doing. Everything felt so natural and easy between them again. They moved together in the kitchen like they always had. Harry reached around Zayn to grab some glasses as he set the table, and Zayn leaned back against him like it was out of habit, shoulders hitting Harry's chest. Harry let him rest there for a moment and then squeezed his hip gently as he moved along. It was like no time had passed at all. </p>
<p>Harry was over the moon about how well Zayn's visit was going so far. It felt so good to finally hear his voice and see his smile in person. Dinner was perfect; it filled Harry with joy to see Zayn eat with such ease. He cracked bad jokes throughout the meal to make Zayn laugh, because he'd missed the sound so badly. They swapped stories about their sisters new boyfriends. Zayn was warming up to Safaa's boyfriend and Gemma was finally dating a guy that Harry liked. They laughed about how they never thought they'd see the day. Harry told Zayn about meeting Mitch and learning how to meditate with him, and Zayn listened to him with intense attention, because they always used to talk about trying it. Harry felt like everything was back to how it should be; him, Zayn, good food, candles... and maybe even love. Harry hoped that by the end of the night he would have Zayn back in his arms. </p>
<p>"So have you met this... James, yet?" Zayn asked. James was Gemma's new boyfriend. </p>
<p>"Yeah, I met him," Harry chuckled. "He seems like a perfectly nice guy, but as you know, Gemma has an unbelievably bad taste in men." </p>
<p>Zayn smirked. "Oh, Luke wasn't so bad." </p>
<p>"I guess not," Harry sighed dramatically. "But honestly, this new guy, James, was driving me nuts. He was such a know-it-all. Remember her one boyfriend that we met in Glasgow, Connor?" </p>
<p>Zayn's eyes lit up in amusement. "Oh, Jesus. No one could be as much of a know-it-all as Connor." </p>
<p>"Oh, James was getting there, trust me," Harry laughed. "I was dying to call you after I met him, it was driving me nuts that I couldn't," he chuckled. </p>
<p>Zayn's eyes suddenly fell and his smile dropped, and Harry felt like an unbelievable idiot. <em>Fuck fuck fuck. Why did I say that? </em></p>
<p>"You could've," Zayn said quietly. </p>
<p>"Yeah, I suppose," Harry sighed. </p>
<p>"I wasn't the one who changed his number," Zayn muttered and then set down his fork, rubbing his hands over his eyes. </p>
<p>Harry felt awful. "Zayn..." </p>
<p>Zayn got up and walked outside, pulling a joint and a lighter out of his pocket. Harry gave him space for a few minutes before joining him out there, standing in front of him. </p>
<p>Harry had been waiting for this part of the night ever since Zayn got there. As nice as it felt to be around him again, they had a lot of unresolved fights to get over. He wanted to start this conversation, <em>the</em> conversation, with Zayn, so that they could forgive each other and move past what happened a year ago, but he didn't even know where to begin. He was pretty sure Zayn would want to yell at him, and he probably deserved it. Zayn held his hand out, offering him a hit of the joint. </p>
<p>"I'm okay," Harry declined and Zayn nodded, pressing his lips together in a thin line.</p>
<p>Zayn let the joint fall to the floor and stepped on it to put it out. He looked down at his shoes while he asked, "Why didn't you come after me?" Harry's heart sank. Zayn sounded so hurt. Harry knew he was, but it still felt like a punch in the gut to hear it. "Why didn't you come find me and do some... bold declaration of love like you do? Why didn't you come kiss me and tell me that everything would be okay as long as I had you?" </p>
<p>Harry swallowed guiltily. "I should have. I wish I did. I wanted to." </p>
<p>"So why didn't you?" Zayn sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "All the times you told me how much you love me, why didn't you say it then? I needed to hear it." </p>
<p>"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly. "I wish I had. I know I'm a selfish asshole who got caught up in you leaving me when I could've done more to make you feel like it was okay to go." </p>
<p>"I really, really needed to feel like you didn't hate me," Zayn said. "Like you could want me again someday." </p>
<p>"Listen... I crashed and burned when you left," Harry murmured and Zayn sighed, closing his eyes. "That's not an excuse, just... the truth. I thought about going after you,<em> believe</em> me. I thought about running to an airport, I thought about bribing your housekeeper into letting me inside so I could set up candles in your bedroom, I even thought about getting down on one knee," he said and Zayn finally looked at him with wide eyes. "But then..." Harry shrugged helplessly. "I thought about how it would look if I disappeared from the tour right after you and I got scared that you didn't want me anymore, that you were throwing everything away, including me. I wasn't sure... if I had come after you and offered you everything, would you really have let me? I wasn't sure you wanted that. I wasn't sure that was the right thing to do. So I thought about calling instead, but... I know I should've done something, Zayn. I'm really, really sorry that I didn't." </p>
<p>Zayn took a deep breath and walked over to him. He slipped his arms over Harry's neck, hugging him. "Why did we do this to each other?" he murmured and leaned up to kiss Harry's cheek. Harry slid his hands around Zayn's waist, holding him close. "Of course I wanted you Haz... I wanted you there with me so bad, but... I'm sorry you didn't know that. I really am. And you have to know how sorry I am, too... for leaving you behind. That was the last thing I wanted to do, but I did it anyway. I'm sorry." </p>
<p>"You know what I would've done if I wasn't a coward?" Harry sighed. </p>
<p>"Shh, you are not," Zayn protested lightly, pressing his lips against Harry's jaw. "You're not a selfish asshole, either." </p>
<p>"I would've done all of the stuff I said," Harry murmured, stroking his hand over the middle of Zayn's back. Zayn sighed, leaning against him. "I would've run through this airport and set up candles in your bedroom and asked you to marry me." </p>
<p>"Harry..." Zayn breathed. </p>
<p>"'Cause I was still ridiculously in love with you when you left," Harry sighed. </p>
<p>"Me too, babe." </p>
<p>"So now what?" Harry asked him. "Where does that leave us now? Now that I didn't ask you to marry me and we're not anything anymore?" </p>
<p>Zayn took a tiny step back to look him in the eye. "You know that sweater you gave me? Years ago?" </p>
<p>"The Packers one?" Harry smiled. </p>
<p>"That's the one," Zayn sighed. He reached up and pushed his hand through Harry's hair softly. </p>
<p>"You still have it?" </p>
<p>Zayn nodded. "I still sleep in it all the time," he admitted with a sigh, and that gave Harry a boost of courage. "It leaves us with that, I guess." Harry smiled at him and tilted his head down, touching his forehead to Zayn's. Zayn took a deep breath, leaning in to him. "There hasn't been  single day since I left that I haven't thought about you, Haz. Not one." </p>
<p>"Me neither," Harry murmured and finally, finally caught Zayn's lips with his in a kiss. </p>
<p>Zayn sighed against him and Harry kissed him like that over and over, softly. He loved the way Zayn melted against him, relaxed. Harry's knees almost gave out. </p>
<p>Zayn pulled at the bottom of Harry's hair slightly and Harry got the message, kissing him a little more urgently. Zayn's hands slid up Harry's shirt and Harry took a step back to pull it off. When he moved back in, Zayn stopped him, holding his hand out. </p>
<p>"What is it?" Harry asked him quietly. </p>
<p>Zayn sighed and leaned up to kiss him before tilting his head down and pressing his lips against Harry's shoulder. Harry frowned for a second before he realized Zayn was kissing his heart tattoo. "Sorry," Zayn whispered against his inked skin. "For everything." </p>
<p>"No more apologies," Harry murmured back. </p>
<p>Zayn lifted his head, nose brushing against Harry's. "No more," He repeated. "Just you and me. Nothing else." </p>
<p>Harry nodded. "Just me and you." </p>
<p>Zayn pushed forward, capturing Harry's lips heatedly. "I still haven't seen your room," he murmured. </p>
<p>Harry smirked and wrapped his arms around Zayn's waist, hoisting him up. Zayn wrapped his legs over Harry's hips, and kissed him while Harry walked them back into the house. They barely made it past the kitchen before Harry had set Zayn down and was shoving his clothes off, desperate to feel him. Zayn seemed to feel the same way as he went after Harry's belt, whipping it off and tossing it away. </p>
<p>Zayn had barely stepped out of his pants before Harry grabbed him and threw him on the couch, climbing on top of him. Zayn groaned as Harry kissed him roughly. In their relationship, Zayn had always held most of the power. He always decided when they were together, for how long, and he was always seeing someone else. But the bedroom was one of the only times when Harry could take control, and he liked it. He liked to remind Zayn how much he loved him, and give him something that no one else could. "I missed you so much, baby," Harry breathed, lips going to Zayn's neck. </p>
<p>"Me too," Zayn moaned and gripped Harry's shoulders. "Take me upstairs." </p>
<p>Harry lifted him again and took him up the stairs, kissing him the entire way. The rest of the night passed like a dream; being with Zayn again made Harry feel like he was on another Earth. They were entirely wrapped up in each other, so much so that Harry could barely tell where he ended up and Zayn began. They weren't even two people anymore; they were one being, filled with love. Harry was Zayn, and Zayn was Harry. Just as it should be. </p>
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